


The Graves Identity

by Mishafied



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Grizzly Bears, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Newt is a precious cinnamon roll, Recovery, Secret Agent!Graves, Smut, Top!Percival, Whump, Yes Grizzly Bears, Zoologist!Newt, bottom!Newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 74,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishafied/pseuds/Mishafied
Summary: He doesn't remember who he is or how he ended up injured in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness; all he knows is his name is Percival, and he owes his life to the shy, redheaded zoologist who saved him. But unfortunately, just because he doesn't remember his past doesn't mean it can't come back to haunt him.This is the story of how Percival got his happily ever after, and then had to fight to keep it.





	1. Angelic

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt at the Fantastic Beasts kink meme, here: http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/459.html?thread=1032395#cmt1032395
> 
> This story is a bit different from my last in that it is taking quite a bit more research; for that reason, updates will probably be about once every three days instead of every day. 
> 
> Also, while this is named after The Bourne Identity (thank you anon commenter) and it has a similar concept, I've never actually seen that movie or read the book, so it will be in no way the same. It's going to be structured much like a roller coaster- a slow climb to the first real action, but from there it's going to be nonstop.
> 
> Hope y'all like it! <3

For what felt like eternity, Percival was only aware of a searing pain and a chill that seemed to cut straight down to his bones.

 

He wasn’t a person, wasn’t a human being, but an entity made up only of pain and cold. He was vaguely aware of shifting, gritty sand beneath his hands, freezing water lapping at his legs, but nothing seemed to get past the fact that he was a nerve laid bare to the elements. Every gust of wind felt like it was scraping off any skin that was exposed, and the water plastered his clothes to limbs that already felt frozen.

 

Every breath took more effort than the last. How he got here didn’t matter; no, the only thing that mattered was the fact that he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. Everything went distant and dark again, his mind unable to cling to consciousness.

 

_-the steady, rhythmic thump of helicopter blades overhead-_

_-an argument, growing louder, more passionate-_

_-hands around his neck, reeling, falling-_

 

Another breath, like a knife through his chest. And then, he felt something nudge him, sending a spike of pain through him that nearly blacked him out again.

 

“Sadie, leave it!”

 

The accented voice wasn’t familiar, but then again, nothing seemed familiar anymore. He felt the wind change- someone was beside him, blocking some of the chill, but at first Percival couldn’t find the strength to even attempt to open his eyes. The warmth that touched his throat was so much of a shock, so foreign, that he would have pleaded for more if he had been able.

 

He steeled his will and forced his eyes open, just enough to see a figure hovering over him. The light from the sun made it look like a halo shone brightly around wavy red hair, and Percival caught a hint of green in those concerned eyes and the fleeting impression of freckles before he couldn’t manage to keep his own eyes open anymore.

 

“ _Jesus_ \- he’s still alive,” the voice said, and Percival could agree with the incredulity in the tone. He wasn’t even sure how he was still alive. Either way, he faded out again, the voice becoming as much background noise as the sound of rushing water. Consciousness meant the pain returned, and he was all too willing to give that up.

 

All too willing to escape the pain, even if it meant the darkness that took over might be permanent.

 

He was dragged from the blissful oblivion by something grabbing onto him and pulling, and though the agony that rushed through him was more than he could handle, the most that left him was a shaky groan. He couldn’t force air into his lungs, couldn’t think straight, could only fall back into delirium.

 

“Sorry, so sorry! Don’t- don’t die on me, alright?”

 

The apology wasn’t necessary. Another pull, another wave of pain, and Percival let unconsciousness take over once again.

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

Percival drifted in and out for what could have been years. He often heard someone talking to him, a soft voice with a beautiful accent, and though he couldn’t remember many of the exact words, it didn’t matter. The voice alone reminded him that he was still alive, somehow.

 

That didn’t mean the pain was gone. He wasn’t cold anymore- in fact, he was often far too hot, soaked in sweat- but every waking moment was nothing but pain. Sometimes his mysterious rescuer would make him choke down tea that tasted heavily of herbs, and that would slightly relief the pain or the fever for a short while.

 

Even so, Percival struggled to maintain consciousness on the rare occasion that full comprehension graced him.

 

_-a sense of urgency, of betrayal, fury-_

_-a woman’s voice, asking him what was wrong, but he can’t say, can’t tell, not yet-_

 

Sometimes he heard singing, a clear, alluring voice, almost angelic, and those were the moments when he actually tried to cling to consciousness despite the pain. The sound of that voice singing was nearly as effective at drawing his attention away from the pain as the strange tea that naturally muffled it.

 

When he finally seemed to pull himself from the haze of pain and sleep, he opened his eyes to mostly darkness, and the smell of spruce and rain.

 

He blinked a few times, the flickering of firelight against the walls the only sign of light or life in the dark room. It took him a few moments to get his bearings and take in his situation; he was on a soft bed, though he quickly found that he couldn’t move as freely as might be expected.

 

He lifted his left arm with a grunt at the dull throb of pain, and he had to stare for a moment to make sense of what he saw. There was a white bandage wrapped around his wrist, but there were also two long, smooth, straight branches braced on either side of his wrist. They were held firmly in place by strips of cloth tied in neat knots.

 

 _A splint_ , he thought, realizing the ingenuity of it. Obviously his rescuer didn’t have the supplies out here to make a proper splint, so he’d improvised.

 

He lowered his arm and used his right arm to try and push himself up. His ribs ached, but his body didn’t immediately give out or send him gasping through pain, so he fought to stay upright.

 

It didn’t take long to figure out why there had been so much pain. He was in shorts and a t-shirt, which left his right leg in view- and it had the same kind of makeshift splint on it that his wrist had, only his leg was held in place by blankets and pillows on either side of it as well, to keep him from accidentally moving it. The leg itself was noticeably swollen below the knee.

 

Broken wrist, broken leg. Probably some cracked ribs, from the ache he felt there and the way deep breaths sent a lance of pain though him. He could see one deep cut on his right leg that had been stitched up rather neatly, and smaller cuts and bruises marred his skin elsewhere.

 

Not for the first time, he wondered how he was still alive-

 

-and he wondered what had happened to him, because when he tried to think back to before the pain, his mind came up eerily blank. As if there had only ever been the pain, which had only just started to ebb enough for him to wake.

 

He pulled his attention off himself and looked around, though his attention was drawn to the floor beside the bed. The small space had been turned into a makeshift bed on the floor, a pillow and blankets spread out- and his rescuer was fast asleep there.

 

Percival’s breath caught for a reason entirely separate from the pain as he studied the young man who’d obviously given up his bed for Percival. Wavy red hair and freckled skin, just like he remembered; the slender Brit was wearing trousers and a white button up shirt rolled up to his elbows, as if he’d fallen into bed and fell asleep before he could even get the blankets pulled up over him.

 

It couldn’t have been comfortable. The floors and walls were all made of hard planks of dark wood, and the blankets couldn’t have provided much cushion. And yet- this man had somehow gotten Percival back to his cabin, treated his wounds, and given up his own bed, all for someone he didn’t even know.

 

He wondered how long it had been, and reached up to feel quite the beard growing on his face; it felt wrong, somehow he just knew that he kept it clean shaven most of the time, but it gave him an idea that it had been quite a while since he’d been brought here. A week, maybe more.

 

He shifted a bit more and a hot lance of agony went up his leg, and he couldn’t stifle the groan of pain that left him. Unfortunately, it woke his rescuer, who opened his eyes and sat up in a hurry.

 

“Oh. You’re awake!” the man said with a relieved grin, and he pushed himself to his feet. “Careful now. Don’t move that leg yet.”

 

“Who-“ Percival started to say, but the word came out more of a croak, his throat dry and his voice weak. The redhead reached for the bedside table, where a cup of tea sat waiting.

 

“Here, drink some of this first, then I’ll explain,” he said, holding out the cup. “I know it’s not the best tasting tea in the world, but it’s a natural anti-inflammatory. Willow bark extract.”

 

Newt helped Percival shift to prop the pillow against the wall behind him so he could sit up, and Percival welcomed the help; he felt bone tired, like the simple act of sitting up drained him of all his strength. He sipped at the tea, recognizing the earthy, slightly bitter flavor from his brief moments of clarity over the last few days.

 

“Who are you?” he asked once his throat didn’t feel like sandpaper, and his voice came out rough, but stronger. His rescuer had pulled up a wooden chair to the bedside, and he smiled a bit shyly at Percival from underneath wavy bangs.

 

“Newt Scamander. I’m a zoologist.”

 

“A zoologist?” Percival repeated with a frown, leaving the oddness of the name for another time. “…Where are we?”

 

Newt blinked in surprise. “You don’t know?” he asked, straightening up a little. “Ah, you’re a few miles off the Norton Sound, right on a tributary of the Yukon river…this place doesn’t really have a name, it’s a bit out of the way.”

 

Percival took in the names, and it clicked. “Alaska? I’m in Alaska?”

 

“Well…yes. In the thick of it, to be precise,” Newt said, his frown deepening. “You don’t remember what state you’re in? What _do_ you remember?”

 

Percival started to take in a deep breath, but stopped short when his ribs reminded him of the consequences. “My name is Percival.”

 

There was a beat of awkward, nervous silence, and Newt shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “And…?”

 

“That’s all.”

 

“You don’t remember _anything_ else?”

 

“A helicopter,” Percival said after a pause, not without a huff of frustration. “I remember…being in a helicopter. But nothing else.”

 

“I knew I heard a helicopter go by. Wasn’t long before I found you. Not often you hear anything manmade, this far out,” Newt explained. “You did take a nasty bump to the head, whatever happened. This might be a result of that.”

 

Percival didn’t want to think about it. His head was throbbing, and getting frustrated wasn’t going to help when he was stuck here with two broken limbs. “What are _you_ doing out here?” he asked, aiming to get the conversation off his own predicament, at least for a moment. Luckily, Newt went along with it.

 

“I’m studying the peculiar social hierarchy that presents itself when large groups of grizzly bears cohabitate in close proximity through the mating and salmon run seasons,” he said, perking up a little, obviously excited about and proud of his work. “And I’m studying how they’re interacting with a pack of wolves that’s recently moved in on this territory.”

 

“You’re out in the middle of nowhere, studying grizzly bears and wolves.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“ _By yourself_?”

 

Newt’s head tilted a bit in confusion. “…yes?”

 

“Do you have a death wish?” Percival asked, and Newt laughed softly, the sound almost musical.

 

“I’ve been accused of it before, but no,” he said, and he looked a bit sheepish now. “If you know the terrain and know the creatures, there’s less risk than you might think. Most of them are quite used to my presence by now and just ignore me. Most of the time.”

 

“Oh, well, as long as the five hundred pound vicious animals ignore you _most_ of the time, I’m sure it’s perfectly safe,” Percival muttered, the sarcasm practically dripping from his words, and Newt gave him a half-smirk.

 

“Actually, the uh…coastal variety males weighs around four hundred kilos, or…nine hundred pounds, I believe. On average. The females are near on five hundred, though,” he said softly. “And they’re not usually vicious. Not to humans, anyway.”

 

Percival was just starting to speak when there was a soft screech from across the room, and Newt sighed and straightened up a bit. “Sorry! I’m sorry, Mercutio!” he said as he stood. Percival watched with curiosity- and a bit of trepidation- as Newt walked around the room lighting lanterns.

 

With the extra light, the interior of the small cabin started to come into view. It wasn’t a huge space; the bedroom and living room were one and the same, with the bed and a couple of chairs making up the entirety of the furniture. The fireplace had a simple mantle, and on a rack near it towels and shirts hung to dry in the heat off the flames. The majority of the space was taken up with a few tables; one covered in jars, bowls, and bones, another a seemingly empty workspace, and a third thoroughly covered in books and papers covered in elegant handwriting. Past that was a small kitchen area with a stove, and a table covered in plants and baskets that seemed to be full of berries.

 

The lanterns eventually lit up a cage on the other side of the room, and inside it was an irritated looking bald eagle with a wrap on one wing. As Percival watched on, Newt retrieved a closed bowl from a nearby table, pulled on a long leather glove, and then opened up the cage.

 

“Is that…safe?” he asked, and Newt glanced at him for only a moment before focusing on the bird of prey.

 

“I found him with a broken wing,” Newt explained even as the massive bird hopped from the cage onto the leather glove covering Newt’s arm. “He’s perfectly harmless, so long as I keep him fed. I’m hoping he’ll fully heal before I have to leave for the winter.”

 

Percival managed a weak, amused smile. “So you make a habit of dragging injured creatures back to your cabin?”

 

“I don’t usually go for the ones that require me to build a sled out of branches to drag them half a mile from the river,” Newt pointed out, and he opened the bowl and tugged out a strip of raw meat. He held it up, and Mercutio swallowed it down without hesitation. Percival was conflicted; on the one hand, he felt a bit guilty that Newt had gone to so much trouble for him.

 

On the other hand, he was more grateful than he could probably ever say in words.

 

“Why?” he asked, surprising himself with the question, and Newt looked up from the eagle, a confused look on his face. He only met Percival’s eyes for a moment; he seemed reluctant to hold any kind of eye contact for very long.

 

“Why what?”  


“Why did you save me?” Percival asked, something in him telling him that this wasn’t normal. That people didn’t usually go to so much trouble for someone who was most likely on his deathbed anyway.

 

Newt ducked his head a little, looking away to offer another strip of meat to the eagle. Its golden eye focused on Percival, eyeing him closely, almost suspiciously.

 

Percival didn’t blame the bird. Not knowing who he was made it difficult not to be suspicious of himself as it was.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Newt asked in reply, and this time when he met Percival’s gaze, he held it a little bit longer. “What kind of person would I be if I left someone to die when I knew I might be able to save them?”

 

“Most people wouldn’t go to such trouble out here.”

 

“I’ve been told far too many times that I am very much unlike ‘most people’,” Newt pointed out. “Though normally it’s not meant as a compliment.”

 

Mercutio jabbed at Newt’s arm with his beak, and Newt yelped in surprise. “Fine, fine, you pushy feathered monster. Here,” he said, holding out another strip of meat for the bird. With that finished, he managed to convince Mercutio to hop back into the cage, and he closed the door. “I don’t like keeping him caged like this, but I can’t have him trying to flap his wing just yet,” he said, with regret heavy in his voice. He set the bowl aside and went back to Percival’s bedside.

 

He reached out, and Percival flinched as Newt pressed the back of his hand to Percival’s forehead. “At least your fever broke. I did the best I could, but my supplies are limited, and I couldn’t leave to go get help with you in that condition. It would have taken three days at best to get to the nearest town and back again.”

 

Percival arched an eyebrow. “You don’t have a satellite phone for emergencies? A radio?” he asked as Newt sat back down on the chair beside the bed. Newt shook his head.

 

“I can handle most things that go wrong,” he said. “And seeing as how I’m alone, if it’s that bad that I need to call in help, I’ll likely be dead by the time they reach me anyway.”

 

“Well that’s comforting.”

 

“I do have Jacob,” Newt pointed out, as if that was the answer to the whole problem.

 

“Jacob?”

 

Newt nodded. “Jacob Kowalski. He’s a bush pilot, he flies people to and from the villages out here. He brings me supplies twice a summer,” he explained. “He’s been bringing me out here and bringing supplies all four years that I’ve been doing this.”

 

“You’ve been coming out here every summer alone for four years?” Percival asked, taken aback, and Newt shrugged.

 

“April to September. I usually spend the winter in Africa.”

 

“Let me guess: lions.”

 

“Leopards and hippos, actually. Hippos are far more dangerous than any bear in Alaska, I assure you,” Newt said with a smile, and Percival shook his head.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, I am very glad you found me, but…you’re a little crazy.”

 

“It’s not anything I haven’t heard before, I assure you,” Newt said, not seeming put off by what could have easily been taken as an insult. “Let’s change the bandage on your wrist; the last thing you need is an infection out here.”

 

Percival didn’t hesitate to offer up his injured wrist; after all, this man had already kept him alive this long. There was no reason not to trust him. Newt carefully removed the makeshift splint and then started to unwrap the bandage, and Percival winced as it came off to reveal a nasty gash down the side of his hand and wrist.

 

“I couldn’t stitch it shut. There was too much debris in the wound, and the edges are just too jagged. It will scar, I’m afraid,” Newt explained, and he grabbed a pillow and carefully set Percival’s hand on it, the gash facing up. He stood up and went to the nearby table covered in jars and bowls, and he retrieved a wooden tray that already seemed to be set up with supplies. Percival recognized a bundle of leaves on the tray as aloe vera.

 

“I’m not worried about scars,” Percival pointed out, because really, he was happy to be alive at all at this point. He watched as Newt began to expertly cut and strip an aloe leaf to get at the gel-like substance in the middle. He worked with confidence, obviously having done this many times before. “I’m assuming you get a lot of cuts and scrapes out here?”

 

“Not a lot,” Newt said past the knife he was holding between his teeth as he maneuvered the next leaf into place to be stripped. He took the knife and cut the ends of the leaf, then smoothly used the knife to strip off the skin. “But aloe vera is an effective antibiotic, and an infection is one of the worst things that could happen out here.”

 

He gently took hold of Percival’s hand again, and he carefully applied the slimy gel to the wound; Percival expected it to hurt, but it was just intensely cold compared to the heat of the wound. Silence fell again as Newt worked, which gave Percival ample opportunity to watch the redhead as he focused on his task.

 

He could tell the man wasn’t quite used to being around people like this. He avoided eye contact, and when he was in conversation, his shoulders slumped and he couldn’t truly stay still out of nervousness. But when he was like this, focused on the eagle or a task he was familiar with, there was an intensity in his green eyes that it was difficult not to get caught up in.

 

And now, with the room lit up, he could get a better look at Newt altogether. He could see a few scars on his arms, his sleeves rolled up to expose them, and another scar peeking out from his shirt collar, just above his collarbone. He’d obviously not gone without incident through the years, and Percival couldn’t help but wonder if it was lonely out here, having to stitch himself up and apply these medications without help. Percival wouldn’t want to do it; it seemed too risky.

 

And yet Newt seemed to be thriving in it.

 

Percival flinched as Newt started to bandage his wrist, and the redhead looked up apologetically. “Sorry. I don’t have much in the way of painkillers out here. The willow bark tea helps, and I have a limited supply of ginger I’ve been using in the tea, but I know it doesn’t help much.”

 

“It’s alright,” Percival said softly. “You’ve already done more than enough for me. You saved my life.”

 

Newt’s cheeks went a bit red in the firelight, and he looked back down to focus on winding the bandage carefully around the wound. He tucked the end to keep it in place, and then began to replace the makeshift splint.

 

“You’ve had to do this before, haven’t you?” Percival asked, and Newt hesitated, and then nodded.

 

“I took a tumble in a ravine near here two years ago. Snapped my wrist,” he explained. “Had to kind of learn the hard way how to deal with it. Didn’t heal perfectly; it still gets sore sometimes.”

 

He said it matter-of-factly, as if he hadn’t broken a limb all alone in the middle of nowhere while surrounded by dangerous predators. Once again, Percival just had to shake his head at the confidence- or overconfidence- of this young Brit.

 

Percival tried to stifle a yawn as Newt finished up, but couldn’t quite manage it. Newt tied the splint into place and gave him a shy smile. “You should try and get back to sleep,” he said as he stood and took the supplies back to their proper place. “You’ll heal quicker if you’re well rested.”

 

Percival wasn’t going to argue that point. He was still so tired; the only thing keeping him awake so far was sheer curiosity for the man who’d rescued him in such impossible circumstances. But he knew he couldn’t stay awake for much longer, and he moved carefully to lie down flat on the bed again as Newt started to put out the lanterns he’d lit to care for the eagle. Mercutio seemed to be asleep again, his head turned and buried in his own feathers.

 

“Newt,” Percival said sleepily, and the redhead paused in his tasks to turn and look at Percival.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Thank you,” Percival continued, though using just words felt weak after everything Newt had done for him. “Truly, I owe you my life.”

 

Newt ducked his head a little, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. “You don’t owe me anything, Percival. I didn’t help you with the intention of putting you in my debt,” he said, and Percival would have argued the point, but he was already drifting off.

 

The last thought that crossed his mind before he slept was that his name sounded _right_ when Newt was the one saying it.


	2. Purity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Newt…”
> 
> “Yes?” Newt replied, sounding distracted at best.
> 
> “There’s a bear outside.”
> 
> “Oh, is there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two, hope you enjoy! I've been working hard to make this accurate without losing the heart of it. I hope that comes through.
> 
> Chapter three will go up on Monday night if things go according to plan. Happy new year, folks! Hope you didn't spend it ill like me! (Four minutes to midnight and I'm in my housecoat, writing, getting ready to toast the new year by giving dog treats to the dogs. Yep. :P )

It was a few more days before Percival was able to start to get up and actually move around. He couldn’t have been gladder for it; he was about to go stir crazy, having to sit around and do nothing while Newt basically insisted on waiting on him hand and foot. He would sometimes disappear for a few hours to do his research, but he always came back to make sure Percival had eaten and to check on his wounds. And he absolutely refused to even consider taking his bed back, though Percival insisted it wouldn’t kill him to sleep on the floor at least every other night; Newt wasn’t hearing any of it.

 

At least in the evenings, Newt managed to relax some. Of course, his idea of relaxing was to sit at his desk with his battered field notebook, transcribing his scribbled notes from the day into something more readable. Percival was fairly certain that writing and sleep were the only times he ever saw Newt stay still; even when he was eating, Newt was constantly working. In just a few days, he’d seen Newt feeding Mercutio and eating berries when the bird was busy gulping down raw meat, and he’d watched as Newt ate dried salmon jerky with one hand whilst furiously writing with the other. The man was a whirlwind of motion, a study in organized, purposeful chaos.

 

But one day, he came back in with a sturdy branch that he’d carved and repurposed into a makeshift crutch so Percival could actually get up and move around the cabin. It was the best present Percival could have gotten, and he wasted no time in getting cleaned up, shaved, and trying to make himself useful around the cabin. It was the least he could do, after Newt had taken so much time out of his research to make sure Percival was healthy and fed.

 

It wasn’t long after that when Newt offered to show Percival how to handle the outdoor chores as well- as long as he promised never to do them when Newt was away from the cabin, just to be safe. With Percival’s begrudging agreement, Newt gave him warmer clothes to wear, and Percival changed and followed him outside.

 

He’d been so focused on recovering that he’d almost forgotten where he was, but it was impossible to ignore when he stepped out on the porch of the cabin. The cabin was on a hill with the thick forest pressing at its back, looking out over a clearing and a ravine, the bend of the river visible at the bottom. Everything was green and blue and bright, the air smelled clean, and there was no noise of cars or human invention; only the sounds of birds and the water below them.

 

The phrase may have been overused, but Percival could only think that it looked like it was straight from a postcard. The grasses were dotted in purple and yellow flowers, and in the distance he could see what looked like three moose grazing beyond the river.

 

 _If I’ve died_ , Percival thought, _then I’ve surely ended up in heaven._

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Newt asked with a smile as he looked out over the view, and Percival looked at the redhead and hesitated. Newt’s features were sun kissed, his freckles more obvious in the gentle morning light and his hair practically glowing with the dawn- much like the first time Percival had seen him. The word he’d used then in his pain-addled mind was ‘angelic’, and now that his mind was clear, he saw no reason to change that description.

 

“Yeah,” he said almost absent-mindedly, still looking at Newt, the vista forgotten. Newt glanced over at him and seemed to notice him staring, and he cleared his throat as his cheeks reddened.

 

“Come on, it’s time for you to meet the team,” he said, and he stepped down the three uneven stairs to the grass. There were four doghouses off to the side of the cabin, and as Newt came closer, four dogs appeared from out of the doghouses and the long grass surrounding them. None of them wore leashes or tie-downs, but it seemed they had no interest in fleeing.

 

“The grey husky mix is Fae, the big black one is Balto, the tan one is Cooper, and the smaller blonde one is Sadie,” he explained as Percival caught up to him. “Sadie was the one who found you.”

 

Percival remembered. Or at least, he remembered Newt’s voice calling out to Sadie when she tried to rouse him. “I guess I owe her a thank you,” he said as the dogs trotted over to greet them, all of them more interested in sniffing at the newcomer. Percival braced himself on his crutch and reached out with his good hand to pet Sadie’s head, and she barked at him, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth.

 

“They get two scoops of food each in the morning, and two in the evening, no matter how pitiful and starved they pretend to be,” Newt said as he moved over to a large metal box and opened it up. “Be sure to close it back up. This box is only bear proof if it’s latched shut, and believe me, the bears are ready and willing to take advantage if you’re absent minded.”

 

“Just how often do bears come around the cabin?” Percival asked, not without the barest hint of nervousness, and Newt shrugged as he scooped the dog food out into bowls.

 

“Every few days. There was one sniffing around last night after you fell asleep, the dogs scared it off.”

 

Well, that was comforting. Only it really wasn’t.

 

With the dogs fed, Newt showed Percival how the water gatherers were set up. It was a simple but effective system; tarps held up by four angled sticks, one at each corner, with smooth river rocks in the middle to create a ‘gutter effect’ down one side. Exactly where the run off would be sat a bucket, ready to gather the rainwater that ran down the tarp.

 

“I have an emergency supply of bottled water and non-perishable food, but I don’t like dipping into it if I don’t have to,” Newt explained, making sure the tarps were secured.

 

The more Percival saw, the more he was impressed with the set up here. Fresh water gathering, all the food stores in bear proof storage, and Newt also mentioned the fishing lines he had strung up over the river down below; it seemed he was well prepared to be self sufficient out here.

 

Of course, Percival still wasn’t entirely on board with ‘spending all day around animals that could crush a skull in one bite’, but he was taking this one day at a time here. And so far, every time Newt had gone out to observe the animals, he’d come back no worse for the wear, and usually excited about some kind of behavior he’d witnessed. It was always nice to see him so open, even if he would clam up the moment he realized how much he’d been gushing over his daily discoveries.

 

Percival didn’t mind. Even if the ‘discovery’ itself wasn’t all that interesting to him, the smile on Newt’s face when he described it was.

 

And okay, maybe Percival was getting a little too attached to the man who’d saved his life. But it wasn’t like anything of his past could tell him it was a bad idea; he had no past right now. He had nothing to go on except vague memories of an argument and a helicopter flight gone wrong.

 

It was terrifying, and it was freeing. And he really wasn’t sure if he wanted to know who he had been before all this, or if he just wanted to start over with this clean slate, and be able to keep this. Who knew what he would find if he started to dig too deep?

 

After all, the only things he did remember- and barely at that- seemed horribly unpleasant memories, at best.

 

“Percival?”

 

Percival snapped out of his thoughts and found Newt looking at him with concern, and he shook his head as if to clear it. “Sorry.”  


“Are you alright?”

 

“Just…thinking too much,” Percival said, and he flinched as he shifted his weight. “You were saying…?”

 

Newt didn’t look convinced that Percival was alright, especially when he spotted that wince. “I was just saying that there’s berry trees behind the cabin, if we ever run out. But come on, you need to sit down. This is too much, too fast,” he said, and Percival would have argued, but his leg really was beginning to hurt quite a bit. He let Newt help him up the stairs to a chair on the porch, and he carefully lowered himself into it.

 

“I’ll get you some tea with ginger. That will help a bit,” Newt said, and he was gone before Percival could protest.

 

At least he was outside now, as opposed to cooped up indoors. Having fresh air and a view to rival any vacation advertisement turned out to be great for keeping his mind off everything else.

 

That is, until a cold breeze kicked up, and with it the distinct smell of impending rain; and just like that, Percival’s breath halted in his chest and he found himself caught in his own mind.

 

_“Percival, tell me what’s wrong.”_

_“I can’t. Not here, it’s not…we’re being monitored.”_

_“What do you mean? Why would they be monitoring **us**? What have you gotten yourself into?”_

_“For God’s sake, Tina, just trust me-“_

 

When he snapped out of it, it was like coming up for air after being underwater. He heard Newt call his name, and he blinked a few times and focused on the redhead, who was gripping him by the shoulders and looking quite panicked.

 

“Percival!” Newt said, his grip almost painfully tight, his voice more anxious than Percival had ever heard him. “What’s wrong?”

 

Everything was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Percival couldn’t make sense of what he’d heard, what he’d felt. He focused on breathing steadily, and tried to recall what he’d heard. “I remembered something,” he managed to choke out, and Newt’s look grew even more concerned.

 

“About the helicopter?”

 

Percival shook his head. “From…before then, I think,” he said. It seemed like he’d been in trouble long before that helicopter ride- and Tina, whoever she was, had been trying to help him.

 

She’d been too late, it seemed. Or he never got a chance to tell her…whatever it was he’d promised to tell her.

 

Whatever it was, it seemed important. Important enough to be incredibly paranoid over.

 

He’d started to drift again; the warm sensation of a cup of tea being pressed into his hands was enough to pull him back this time, though. “Drink,” Newt said sternly, pushing the cup toward Percival. “You’re not well enough yet to be pushing yourself to remember things. If it happens, it happens, but don’t dwell on it, or you’ll just stress yourself out more.”

 

Percival snorted. “Yes, Doctor Scamander,” he said with no lack of sarcasm, but Newt just smirked.

 

“Tease all you want, but I hold a doctorate degree in both zoology and biology, so I am technically a doctor,” he pointed out. “And as your _doctor_ , I’m telling you to sit there and drink your tea and think _happy_ thoughts.”

 

It was the boldest, the most direct that Newt had been with him since he’d first woken up, and he found himself smiling at the ridiculousness of it. “Touché, ” he muttered, taking a sip of the hot tea- which luckily Newt had taken to adding a bit of honey to, which helped with the bitter taste. ”Happy thoughts it is, _Doctor_.”

 

And though it was playful teasing, Newt seemed to suddenly realize how forward he’d been, and he averted his gaze as his shoulders slumped the slightest bit. “Sorry. I just…worry. About you,” he said, his voice softer now, and Percival sighed.

 

“I’ll be fine- thanks to you.”

 

An awkward silence followed, and Percival could have sworn he saw a touch of red on Newt’s cheeks before he turned away. “It’s nothing, really,” the zoologist said, and he didn’t give Percival a chance to interject. “We’re, uh…almost out of blackberries. I should see to that.”

 

Newt fairly well fled the area, and Percival shook his head and chuckled into his tea. This was definitely going to be an interesting few weeks, that was for sure.

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

The next evening gave Percival the first real scare he’d had since he woke up.

 

Newt was back to his usual routine, sitting at his writing table, muttering over his notes and rewriting them with all the dedication of a scientist. Being so focused, Percival wasn’t surprised that Newt didn’t hear the thud-scrape from outside the cabin.

 

He grabbed his crutch and slowly stood up, having learned the hard way that fast movements turned into a whole lot of pain, and he made his way to one of the small windows of the cabin and looked outside.

 

It was light enough outside that he could easily make out the shape of a massive grizzly bear just beyond the porch, wandering around and sniffing at the ground. Percival wondered why the dogs hadn’t barked at it, but when he looked toward the doghouses, he didn’t see any of them- except for Balto, looking sleepy and content in his doghouse.

 

“Newt…”

 

“Yes?” Newt replied, sounding distracted at best.

 

“There’s a bear outside.”

 

“Oh, is there?”

 

“A really fucking big bear. Like, a _giant_ bear. Right outside.”

 

Newt finally lifted his head from his work, though when Percival glanced his way, the zoologist looked more amused than worried. “Well, let’s shoo it off, then,” he said, and as he stood up Percival stared at him with an incredulous look on his face.

 

“I’m sorry, you’re going to _what_?” he sputtered. “There’s a bear the size of a small vehicle out there, and you’re going to _shoo it_?”

 

“They’re really more scared of us than-“ Newt started to say as he opened the cabin door, but when he saw the bear outside, he halted midsentence-

 

-and _grinned._

 

“Pakak!” he said, and then he stepped out onto the porch without hesitation, and Percival felt his heart leap to somewhere in his throat- because Newt had just stepped right outside, when there was a gigantic grizzly bear wandering around the cabin, as if he were greeting a perfectly human visitor.

 

“Newt, wait-“ he said, but he was obviously too slow to stop him. By the time he limped on his crutch out onto the porch, Newt was already at the bottom of the steps, mere feet away from what had to be eight hundred pounds of grizzly bear.

 

The bear reared up on its hind legs, at least eight vertical feet of muscle, claws, and teeth, and Percival felt panic rise in him like a flood…and then the bear wrapped its massive paws around Newt’s shoulders and _hugged him_.

 

“You little nuisance, it’s about time you showed your face around here!” Newt said, reaching up to grip those two furry arms as the decidedly _not_ ‘little’ nuisance bumped its face against his chest. Percival was torn between staring in shock and wanting to go find some kind of weapon; each of those paws were bigger than Newt’s head and tipped with sharp-looking claws, and yet…

 

The bear wasn’t hurting him. The grip the bear had on Newt was almost cautious, claws not even touching the skin, and after a few moments the bear hopped back down to all fours. Newt reached down and ruffled the fur on the bear’s head, just like he would any of his dogs.

 

Dogs that were currently completely ignoring the life threatening situation mere meters away, as a matter of fact.

 

“Newt…” he started, unsure of just what to say in this completely bizarre situation, and Newt looked back at him with a bright smile.

 

“It’s alright, he’s not dangerous!”

 

“…I’m beginning to question your definition of ‘not dangerous’,” Percival said, not moving from where he stood on the porch, and Newt laughed as the bear nudged him. And being that it was eight hundred pounds of bear, a friendly nudge easily sent Newt stumbling.

 

“This is Pakak,” he said as he steadied himself and gave the bear a playful shove in return. “He’s been coming to visit for two years now; three years ago I found him as a cub, injured in a poacher’s trap. I saved him.”

 

Well, that explained the familiarity, at least. And it explained why the dogs didn’t particularly care about the bear’s presence. “You’re sure that’s…safe?” he asked, and Newt nodded, one hand still petting the bear’s thick fur.

 

“Of course, of course. Pakak wouldn’t hurt us,” he insisted, and then he beckoned Percival over. “Come on, then. Come say hello.”

 

Pakak headbutted Newt in the hip again, and Newt laughed. “Yes, yes, mummy’s here. You don’t have to be so pushy,” he said, and Percival filed away the ridiculousness of Newt calling himself ‘mummy’ to a creature at least five times his size for later questioning. For now, he made his way down the steps one at a time, well aware that he was putting his life in Newt’s questionable judgment of a wild bear’s character.

 

Bears on television and in pictures looked big, of course, but there was something incredibly more visceral about being mere feet away from one and actually feeling their presence without the benefit of a television screen or a fence in the way. When the bear licked its lips he saw flashes of long, vicious canine teeth, and this close he could smell the bear’s strong scent, too. It smelled like a mix of wet grass and fish, and he could hear the low sounds of it breathing as he came closer.

 

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He should turn and walk right back inside and close the door. But something in him trusted Newt, even in this completely crazy situation.

 

“Pakak is an Inuktitut word for ‘one that gets into everything’, because even when he was injured I couldn’t keep him out of my supplies,” Newt explained, and the bear seemed to notice Percival for the first time. Intelligent, deep brown eyes focused on him, and the bear let out a huff and then turned toward him.

 

It took every bit of willpower he had not to back up, not to give in to the ‘flight’ part of his ‘fight or flight’ response.

 

“Be gentle,” Newt said sternly, talking to the bear as opposed to Percival. The bear closed the distance between them with two lumbering steps, and then sniffed at Percival curiously.

 

One swipe of claws or one bite could kill him. He knew that. But the bear just sniffed at his injured leg, and then lifted its head to nudge his hand. Percival hesitated, and then held his breath as he smoothed his fingers through course, thick fur.

 

“I tried to stop him from coming back here once he healed. I didn’t feed him, didn’t encourage him. I know it’s not good for him to get so used to human interaction,” Newt said sheepishly. “But he just kept coming back, even when I tried to scare him off. Even the dogs stopped trying to drive him away.”

 

Percival took in a deep breath, starting to relax as the bear got bored with him and turned back to Newt. It hauled itself up on its hind feet again and planted its arms around Newt once more, and Percival shook his head in disbelief.

 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t do anything more to surprise me, you go and hug a full grown grizzly bear,” he said as Pakak nuzzled at Newt’s hair. Of course, the bear version of ‘nuzzling’ was rubbing its snout in Newt’s hair roughly enough to jar his head to the side. It really was acting like an overgrown dog seeing its owner after a long time apart, and Newt didn’t seem to mind one bit.

 

“He’s still got a few more years before he’s full grown,” Newt pointed out as he lightly scratched the fur between Pakak’s eyes, and if Percival’s brain provided sound effects, there would have been a loud record scratch right there.

 

“He’s _not full grown_?”

 

“Heavens, no. He’s only five years old,” Newt said, and Pakak dropped down to all four paws again with a snort. “He’ll hit full size when he’s about…eight or nine? Give or take. He’s abnormally large for his age, though.”

 

Percival had the feeling that when eight hundred pounds of bear became a thousand pounds of bear, Newt wouldn’t be so nonchalant about the creature rearing up to hug him. If the bear so much as stumbled, he’d be crushed. But now wasn’t the time to bring that up, not when Newt was watching Pakak with an unmistakable expression of pride; he was obviously happy to see the bear alive and well, and having been a big part of the reason for that.

 

“Newt…tell me now if you have any other rescue projects that are going to come out of the woods wanting attention, because otherwise I might survive the broken leg just to die of a heart attack,” he said, and Newt shrugged.

 

“It’s just him and Mercutio. And an elk calf last year. A couple of other birds, too. And an owl,” he said, and then he seemed to realize how far beyond ‘just him and Mercutio’ his list was going. “No other bears. Or wolves. Just…well, just you.”

 

Percival snorted. “I hope I’m an easier patient than a _bear,_ ” he said with a pointed look at Pakak, who had plopped down in the grass with a grunt.

 

“Well, you’re just as stubborn,” Newt pointed out with a wistful smile, though he didn’t look up at Percival. “But you don’t try and eat every ounce of food in the cabin the moment I step away, so I suppose that’s points to you.”

 

“…I’m flattered.”

 

Newt didn’t seem to hear the dry humor in Percival’s voice. He sat on the ground next to Pakak as Percival watched on, still a bit uneasy, but that unease was fading more and more as the moments stretched on and Pakak seemed more interested in taking a nap than in causing trouble. And of course, Newt stretched out in the grass next to his deadly friend, and Percival resigned himself to sitting on the steps and watching to make absolutely sure nothing went wrong.

 

“They’re misunderstood, you know,” Newt said softly, stroking Pakak’s fur as the bear dozed. “They’re highly intelligent. They don’t naturally hunt humans. If we leave them alone, stop encroaching on their territory, they’ll just as soon leave us alone in turn.”

 

Percival could hear a sadness in his voice, a need to be understood, and he couldn’t help but think of all the things he’d heard about bears. He might not be able to remember specifics, but he knew that everything he’d heard implied that bears were naturally dangerous, and couldn’t share space with humans, couldn’t empathize or emote the way a human could.

 

And yet here was Newt Scamander, lying in the grass next to 800 pounds of predator that would sooner hug him than hurt him. Newt Scamander, who left the cabin each day to observe possibly dozens of bears, some with cubs, and yet came back every evening happy and healthy.

 

Perhaps there was a truth to what Newt was saying. Perhaps humans did just judge too quickly.

 

“I believe you,” he finally answered, and Newt glanced up at him and smiled, his features lit more by moonlight than by the ever-fading sunlight.

 

“No matter who you were before, Percival, no matter what happened,” the redhead said quietly. “You’re a truly good person. I want you to know that.”

 

Hearing it from Newt, he almost believed it.

 

Almost.

 

 

 

 


	3. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t really remember much of anything,” he admitted, and Jacob laughed.
> 
> “Newt, the bear was one thing, but now you’re finding random guys with amnesia to nurse back to health in your cabin? I don’t think you can top this one,” he said, but then he paused, as if considering. “…But if you happen to find any injured, attractive women out here, you can always give me a call from the nearest town.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA I LIED YOU'RE GETTING A CHAPTER TONIGHT BECAUSE I WROTE TOO FAST
> 
> Next chapter will likely go up on Tuesday night, and if all goes well, the chapter after that will be up late on Wednesday. Also, the next chapter is the last chapter of peace and quiet- chapter five is when everything goes to shit, so enjoy the happy bonding while it lasts. >:3

Percival found himself falling right into Newt’s routine without even thinking twice about it.

 

He recovered quickly, and within a few weeks, he could walk without the aid of his crutch- instead, Newt had created a cane for him, something simple and easier to use. His leg and wrist were still painful, especially when he shirked his limits and did too much, too quickly- which was nearly every day- but he didn’t feel like such a burden anymore.

 

Newt would make breakfast and then go out on his research, and while he was gone, Percival would attend to everything that needed done at the cabin. The chores were endless when you depended on each task for survival; the water traps had to be checked, cleaned, and emptied, any water boiled and stored, the dogs fed, firewood restocked inside (Newt refused to let him chop the firewood yet, and anyway, it was a bit too pleasant to watch Newt roll up his sleeves and have at it with an axe), and any caught fish prepared for cooking. Newt even taught him how to feed and tend to Mercutio, who was growing even more restless as the weeks passed.

 

Percival couldn’t blame him. He knew exactly what the bird was going through.

 

After a while, Newt even conceded to show Percival where the prime spots along the river were for the fishing lines, maybe a ten-minute walk from the cabin. When the chores were done, Percival would make the short hike to the fishing lines from the previous night, pull in anything caught, and then move the line to another spot along the shallow part of the river.

 

He even got Newt to agree to take the bed on alternating nights. Well, it was less ‘got him to agree’ and more ‘picked him up while he was sleeping and dumped him on the bed and told him to stay put or else’, but the effect was the same. Newt was so worried that Percival would hurt himself pulling the same stunt again that he finally negotiated.

 

It was a peaceful sort of life. It was…nice. He knew deep down that it was so different from the life he’d led till now, but he was happy here. Focusing on these simple, life-giving tasks, so removed from the complications of society…he found that he didn’t really want to leave.

 

Though he knew that eventually he would have to. He knew that when Jacob came to deliver supplies, they would have to tell him to put out feelers in law enforcement in Anchorage to see if anyone knew who Percival was, or how he ended up out here. And going to the police was probably a good idea, considering the fact that every fleeting memory he had of his old life told him he was anything but safe. That he might have information that someone probably wanted bad enough to hurt him for it.

 

But they could worry about that when the time came. For now, he focused on strengthening his leg, testing himself each day, and each day pushing just a little bit farther than the day before.

 

It was on a normal day, like any other, that Newt returned early from his research, well before the sun even started its descent. Percival frowned in confusion, looking up from where he’d been placing rocks on a water trap, but Newt just gave him a brief glance and a smile- a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

“Decided to call it early for today. Don’t mind me,” he said, though Percival wasn’t about to fall for that. Newt didn’t take breaks, didn’t take days off. Something was wrong.

 

“Newt-“ he started, but Newt had already gone up the steps and inside. Percival sighed and finished rigging the water trap, and then he followed the zoologist inside.

 

Newt stood at the small kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up, already gathering some greens to chop up either for tea or for salads with dinner. Either way, his mind wasn’t really on the task, Percival could tell that much. His eyes were distant and his expression tightly drawn as he grabbed a knife and began cutting up the leaves with practiced efficiency.

 

“Newt,” Percival said softly as he walked up to the counter by the redhead. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Newt answered a hair too quickly, and there was a shakiness to his voice that Percival immediately placed as him holding back tears. “Nothing’s wrong, just wasn’t having much luck today, and I…I j-just….”

 

His hand slipped and Newt cried out in pain, and the knife clattered to the counter as he clutched his hand in close to his chest. Percival winced and reached out, tugged Newt’s hand toward him, already able to see the bright red flow of blood down his wrist. There was a deep cut down the side of his index finger and the back of his hand, all the way down to the base of his thumb, and though he was trembling, Percival had the feeling it wasn’t because of the pain.

 

“Come here,” he said, not accepting any protest as he led Newt to the bed and sat him down on the edge of it. Newt had his head down, and he stubbornly wiped away tears with his good hand as Percival grabbed the first aid kit and pulled up a chair.

 

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, pressing a gauze pad to the wound to slow the bleeding. He held it there tightly, even though Newt winced at the pressure; he knew how to treat a wound. He was calm despite the exorbitant amount of blood on Newt’s hand and arm; he knew the cut would need stitches, but he also knew he could easily do that. He’d done it before, even if he couldn’t remember when or why.

 

“I shouldn’t be this upset,” Newt muttered, still looking down at his hand, anywhere but at Percival.

 

“Upset about what?”

 

“Yuka,” Newt said, and then he took in a shaky breath. “Osha’s cub. She has two cubs- well, she…she _had_ two cubs. Yuka and Yura. But when I saw her today, she only had Yura with her, and I…”

 

He hesitated for a moment, and Percival just waited for him to continue, though he knew where this was probably going. “I did a bit of searching, and I…I found Yuka. She’d been dead a while, probably since last night sometime. It was probably another bear; the males will kill the cubs so they can mate with the mother. It happens all the time, these…these cubs have about a fifty percent chance at best of making their third year, but I…”

 

He shook his head, overwhelmed, and Percival gave him a moment before he spoke. “It’s alright to be upset about it,” he said, because he could sense that Newt was fighting this sorrow like he was ashamed of it, and Percival wasn’t sure why. Newt laughed, but there was no light in the sound; it was bitter and hollow.

 

“I’m supposed to be _objective_. I’m supposed to see all of this logically. And I do, I know why it happened, I’ve seen it happen before. But this…” he trailed off for a moment, and winced as Percival folded the gauze to a clean side and pressed it against the cut again. “These are Osha’s first cubs. I’ve watched them since they came out of the den. They’re so young, and she’s been working so hard to raise them. I really wanted to see them grow up.”

 

There it was. The ‘objective’ scientist, getting a tad too attached to the research subjects. Percival ducked his head a little to catch Newt’s eyes, his tone not without sympathy as he spoke. “No scientist can be one hundred percent objective. Not unless they’re a sociopath,” he pointed out. “The fact that you care this much just means you truly love your work. It means you’re human.”

 

He pulled away the gauze and studied the cut; the bleeding had slowed enough that it was safe to continue. He cleaned the wound with a bit of water, and then started to get the curved needle and suture thread ready as Newt watched quietly.

 

“I’m used to doing this for myself,” Newt finally said, sounding almost amused amidst the pain, and Percival snorted.

 

“One handed stitches is probably why you’ve got scars,” he pointed out. “You really shouldn’t come out here alone.”

 

“There’s no one to come with me.”

 

“I would.”

 

Their eyes met just for a moment before Newt blushed and looked back down at his hand. “I’m sure you have your own life you’ll want to get back to. Once you remember,” he pointed out, and Percival took hold of his hand, carefully starting to pull the first stitch into place. To his credit, Newt only responded to the pain with a sharp intake of breath.

 

“I don’t have to remember my life before to know that I like spending time out here with you,” he said as he worked. “You’re my friend, Newt. And as much as you’ve worried about me, I don’t think you realize that I’ve been worrying about you, too.”

 

Newt actually did look rather startled at that admission, as if the idea of someone worrying about _him_ was a bit ridiculous. “Why?” he asked, and Percival couldn’t help it; he laughed, even in the middle of tugging the second stitch into place and knotting it.

 

“Newt. You are an incredibly smart man, but sometimes you can be a complete idiot,” he said, and before Newt could object, he continued. “You come out here alone every year, and spend all day with animals that could kill you in one blow. Now, I know you’ve said that they wouldn’t, but that doesn’t undermine the fact that they _could_. So yes, I worry.”

 

Newt hesitated, and Percival could practically see the uncertainty in his eyes. “Isn’t there anyone else who worries about you coming out here alone?” he asked, and he immediately knew he’d made a mistake. Newt’s eyes seemed to go a bit distant, his expression hardened, and he looked away, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

 

“I’d really rather not talk about this, Percival,” he said, and Percival decided not to press the issue, not when Newt was already a bit of a wreck.

 

He finished the stitches in the tense silence that followed, and by then, Newt had managed to put the mask back on, that fake smile that Percival hated on him. But he knew to leave well enough alone, at least for now.

 

Back to the routine, even if it felt like some kind of wedge had been set between them; one man refusing to speak of the past, and another who couldn’t.

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

It was a couple of weeks later, early in the morning, when Percival first heard a sound that didn’t belong in nature. It took him a moment to place it; it was a car engine, and it was getting closer.

 

Newt immediately looked up from his breakfast, and his face broke into a grin. “Jacob!” he said, and he pushed away from the table and was out the door in moments. Percival followed a bit slower, still using his cane, just in case he had a moment of weakness or especially bad pain in his leg. There were days now when he could go without it for a couple of hours at a time, and other days where walking to the water traps without it seemed daunting.

 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Jacob’s arrival. He wanted to feel excited or happy that this might be the day that started the process of finding out who he really was, but he couldn’t seem to drudge up more than a sense of dread. He tried to tell himself he was being overdramatic, but it didn’t help.

 

He joined Newt outside just as a rugged, mud-splattered jeep pulled up to the cabin, and the dogs gathered around excitedly as a short, heavyset man with a mustache and a kind smile hopped out. He greeted Newt like an old friend, pulling the redhead into a boisterous hug- though he froze when he saw Percival standing behind him.

 

“Uh, Newt, buddy?” the man said, eyeing Percival with open suspicion. “You didn’t tell me you called in company this year.”

 

“I didn’t,” Newt said, taking a step back. “I found him.”

 

“You… _found_ him?”

 

Percival didn’t blame Jacob for being skeptical. After all, what were the chances? In the middle of nowhere in Alaska, Newt had not only found him, but found him in time to save him before he died, which wouldn’t have been much longer judging by how he’d felt at the time. The odds were more than astronomical.        

 

“Percival,” he said, holding out his hand for Jacob to shake, which the shorter man did so after a brief hesitation. “I somehow ended up injured out here. Newt saved me.”

 

“Somehow?” Jacob repeated, the pitch of his voice rising, and Percival shifted his weight a bit off his aching leg and shrugged.

 

“I don’t really remember much of anything,” he admitted, and Jacob laughed.

 

“Newt, the bear was one thing, but now you’re finding random guys with amnesia to nurse back to health in your cabin? I don’t think you can top this one,” he said, but then he paused, as if considering. “…But if you happen to find any injured, attractive women out here, you can always give me a call from the nearest town.”

 

“ _Jacob_ ,” Newt scolded, and Jacob had the sense to look sheepish.

 

“Just kidding, just kidding!”

 

“We were hoping you could put out some feelers in Anchorage. Find out if anyone’s reported a missing person, or an incident with a helicopter,” Newt continued, and Jacob nodded.

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Anything for you, pal,” he said, and then he jerked his thumb back toward the jeep. “I brought some of your favorites. Wanna help me unload?”

 

It turned out that Newt’s ‘favorite’ was fresh strawberries, and Jacob didn’t hesitate to regale them of his negotiating tactics that he used to procure said strawberries, even as they moved bottled water, first aid supplies, and dog food into the cabin. The man had an infectiously cheerful personality that seemed to meld well with Newt’s; Newt let him do most of the chatting, though he seemed genuinely interested in everything Jacob had to say, no matter how dull it might be.

 

“Hey, the orcas were in the bay last I saw. You want me to drive you down there to see them?” Jacob asked once they’d finished, and Newt’s eyes lit up at the suggestion.

 

“Of course! I haven’t seen them in weeks,” he said, grabbing his coat and the box of strawberries before he turned to Percival. “Come with us?”

 

Percival saw the offer for the olive branch it was. Admittedly, things hadn’t been as cozy since their last serious conversation, when Newt shut down the moment Percival asked about his world beyond his studies; but now, he could see earnestness in Newt’s eyes, an apology and a forgiveness, all wrapped in one request.

 

And of course, he couldn’t say no to Newt.

 

“Alright,” he said, and he retrieved his own coat and followed the pair out to the jeep.

 

The ride to the bay was painfully bumpy, and even in the middle of Jacob’s endless stories about his flights and the villages he’d visited, Newt shot Percival more than one apologetic look from the front seat. Percival knew he would probably regret this later tonight, when his leg was sure to be more painful than usual, but at the same time the idea of getting away from the cabin for a while was enticing.

 

It was almost worth the torture of watching Newt bite into a strawberry and moan like he was doing something a whole lot less innocent than eating some damn fruit. All the same, the field trip was well overdue.

 

That, and he was fairly certain Newt couldn’t pull any crazy stunts when it came to whales. The water was deathly cold, so he thought it was going to be a relaxing morning of observation.

 

He really should have known better, considering this was _Newt,_ after all.

 

The jeep pulled to a stop at the edge where grass turned into a rocky ‘beach’, and Percival could already see the spouts of water from the whales’ blowholes as he carefully got out of the jeep- not without a wince at the complaints from his leg.

 

“The local pods like to come in the bay and swim through the kelp. It’s almost like a massage for them,” Newt explained as he hopped out of the front seat, already caught up in the moment, his self-consciousness set to the side in the face of introducing Percival to more of these creatures of his. He walked out onto the rocks- and then further out, onto a rocky jetty that jutted out into the icy water.

 

“Newt, those are probably slick,” Percival warned, but Newt just waved him off as he went out to the very edge and knelt down. Jacob gave Percival an amused look.

 

“It’s no use,” he pointed out. “I learned a long time ago to just let him do what he wants.”

 

Percival sighed. “ _Someone_ should be making sure he doesn’t get himself killed,” he muttered, and he carefully made his way out to where Newt knelt by the water.

 

Newt reached out and slapped the water, and then he sat down cross-legged, and Percival raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing,” he said, though he already knew it was in vain.

 

“I know this pod,” Newt said with a smile that lit up his features like sunlight. “Unole is the one with the scar on his dorsal fin. Agaliga and Agaska are the two females, the smaller ones there. Unatsi is Agaliga’s son, he’s the smallest of them. And the one with the curved dorsal fin is Towodi.”

 

Of course the whales would have names. Percival was beginning to wonder if there was a single animal out here that Newt didn’t know by name.

 

The whales were closer now, and occasionally one would peek out above the water as if checking them out. But instead of reaching out and hitting the water again to draw them in closer, Newt started to _sing_.

 

Percival immediately recognized that voice from when he’d been in the worst of his illness, when he couldn’t quite grasp any thoughts, couldn’t remember where he was. He remembered that voice, though, remembered clinging to it like a lifeline, and even now it was the loveliest thing he’d ever heard. The song wasn’t in English- it sounded like some kind of Native American language- but in no time, the tune had the whales swimming up to the jetty.

 

“There you are,” Newt said with a fond look as he reached out and patted one of the whales on the nose, and Percival should have been more surprised, but he really wasn’t. He quickly realized he should have expected this from the moment they got in the jeep to come out here.

 

“I would remind you that these are killer whales that could swallow you in one bite, but I imagine it wouldn’t persuade you away from there,” he said, and Newt chuckled, patting another whale on the nose as it vied for attention with its family member.

 

“Humans aren’t their preferred food. Seals have a whole lot more fat and nutrients that they need,” he pointed out, and then he blushed a little. “Technically, this is about ten different shades of illegal, petting them like this…but they seem to enjoy themselves. They always come to see what I’m doing when I bring out the dry suit and dive in the bays.”

 

Percival groaned. “Of course you dive with the killer whales,” he muttered, though Newt’s attention was firmly on the smallest of the whales that had just come to the jetty for attention.

 

“I’m beginning to see why you gave up,” Percival murmured to Jacob as the man made his way out to them, though he couldn’t help the barely-there smile on his face as he watched Newt rub his hand across the whale’s black, slick skin. The whales chirped and squealed, and Newt laughed softly and splashed at one of the bigger ones.

 

“Come on now, don’t be pushy,” he said- and the whale promptly used its nose to splash water right back at Newt, who yelped in surprise, because a whale’s playful ‘splash’ was probably about thirty gallons of seawater.

 

They probably would have stayed out there longer, were Newt not soaked with freezing salt water, his clothes drenched. But Newt insisted on staying long enough to make sure each whale got enough attention before he let Percival lead him back toward the jeep.

 

“Come on, take that coat off. It’s not doing you any good like that,” Percival said, and for once Newt did as he was told, teeth chattering as he stripped off his coat. Percival took his own off as well, and before Newt could protest, he slung it around Newt’s shoulders and pulled it closed in the front, leaving them nearly nose to nose.

 

“I’m f-fine, really,” Newt insisted, his cheeks quickly taking on a reddish hue, but Percival just shook his head.

 

“Wear this till we get back to the cabin. Then you’re sitting in front of the fire till you dry out. No arguing,” he said. “The last thing you need is frostbite.”

 

“He has a point,” Jacob said, though he was giving Percival an odd look and a wink. Percival bit back a groan; was it _that_ obvious?

 

Well. Obvious to everyone except Newt, it seemed.

 

Saying goodbye to Jacob was bittersweet. Percival was glad for the human company who wasn’t putting himself into the jaws of danger every ten seconds; it made him feel a little more sane. But at the same time, as much as Newt’s antics drove him up the wall, Percival liked having the redhead to himself out here.

 

He was becoming less and less interested in who he used to be, in the face of what he could have right here in front of him. That is, if Newt even wanted the same. But the zoologist still seemed to clam up when the topic turned to himself; not his animals, not his studies, but himself.

 

But Percival was nothing if not determined to see this through. With no baggage to possibly drag him down aside from a still healing leg, he’d decided that there was no reason not to try and get Newt to open up. It seemed much like coaxing a skittish animal to earn its trust.

 

A fitting comparison for Newt, really.

 

“I’m sure he’ll find something,” Newt said as they sat on the floor in front of the fireplace that night. In one hand Newt held a book he was in the thick of reading, and with the other hand, he was still working his way through the strawberries Jacob had given him. It was…intensely distracting, to say the least, especially when he licked the juices off his fingertips. “We’ll find out who you were, I’m certain of it. You might have family who are worried about you.”

 

Percival wasn’t sure. When he tried to think of family, it was like a blank space in his mind, a chasm that he didn’t even dare try to reach into. “Maybe,” he said, though, mainly to make Newt feel better about the situation. He knew Newt was hoping for the best, hoping that Percival would find out that he had people back home who loved him.

 

Percival was more concerned about the person right here in front of him, the infuriatingly oblivious zoologist who’d dragged him back from the brink of death.

 

 

 

 


	4. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Newt…that is a lot of bears,” he said, his voice tense, though Newt didn’t seem to notice his anxiety and took his words entirely the wrong way.
> 
> “I know! It’s absolutely fascinating, the way their social hierarchy changes when so many of them are gathered together like this,” the zoologist said, continuing forward. Percival hesitated, and then decided that being close to Newt was probably the safest bet for him; he hurried to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late in the night. It's a long chapter. Also, I agonize over smut. It makes me so worried. But I think it's alright. XD
> 
> Also, this is the last chapter of happy bonding time and getting-to-know-you. We're at the top of the first hill on the roller coaster ride, so get thee ready for tomorrow's chapter. :3

Percival knew he was fully recovered on the day Newt invited him to go out on research with him.

 

Well, perhaps ‘fully recovered’ was pushing it. He still had good days and bad days, but the fear of re-injury or making the wounds worse was gone. They were naught but scars now, designs on his skin that reminded him of how far he’d come in a little over two months. Now there was only the pain left, which on some days was nearly nonexistent, and on others it was enough to make him wish for the modern convenience of prescription pills.

 

Newt tried, but tea could only do so much, really.

 

But this was a good day for him, and Newt had obviously noticed, because he’d packed extra food and water before he even asked Percival if he’d like to join him. It was almost as if he thought Percival would change his mind in the time it took to pack the extra supplies.

 

But Percival was more than ready for another trip away from the cabin. He put on warmer clothes, and they fed the dogs and checked the water traps before setting out for today’s research destination.

 

And even though Percival had now spent weeks on end out here, the beauty of the place still struck him. The spring flowers had long since passed, but were replaced with a new rainbow of summer blooms. Overhead two bald eagles rode the winds in lazy circles, ever watchful for their next meal; soon, Mercutio would likely be doing the same.

 

No cars, no smell of exhaust or garbage, no cacophony of human noises. There was just the steady buzz of the insects, the chittering calls of the eagles above (the traditional ‘eagle screech’ used on television was actually the call of a red tailed hawk, Newt had told him with amusement; bald eagles sounded more like overgrown pigeons with anger issues), and the distant sound of flowing water. It wasn’t even that cold today; a light coat had been enough to fight off the chill.

 

“Most of the bears will be focused on the salmon today. So long as we stay quiet and out of the way, they’ll ignore us,” Newt said as he led the way through the brush. “Just be sure to do exactly as I say, without hesitation.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Percival said, though nervousness rolled in his gut as he realized just what he was going to be doing today. He’d seen it as an opportunity to get away from the cabin, to spend more time with Newt; the ‘dozens of bears’ part had almost been an afterthought.

 

The only bear he had direct experience with was Pakak, who had come to visit twice since that first evening. Other than that, the dogs ran off any bears that got close to the cabin in short order.

 

So he wasn’t entirely prepared for it when they stepped out of the trees and into a clearing around a wide bend in the river, and he realized that Newt really hadn’t been exaggerating about the number of bears that tended to congregate here. Just from where he stood, he could see nine of them- no, ten, now that he saw the cub standing on its hind legs to peer above the tall grass.

 

“Newt…that is a _lot_ of bears,” he said, his voice tense, though Newt didn’t seem to notice his anxiety and took his words entirely the wrong way.

 

“I know! It’s absolutely fascinating, the way their social hierarchy changes when so many of them are gathered together like this,” the zoologist said, continuing forward. Percival hesitated, and then decided that being close to Newt was probably the safest bet for him; he hurried to catch up.

 

Newt stopped maybe fifty meters from the river, where the grass was shorter and there was a good view of a short waterfall. Newt settled down in the grass and began to unpack his binoculars and his notepad, and Percival slowly sat down beside him, trying to keep track of every single bear in sight.

 

“See the one up on the top of the waterfall?” Newt said, gesturing with his pen. Percival did indeed see the bear on top of the waterfall; it was hard to miss a bear that was close to the size of the average car. His muzzle was scarred but his eyes bright as he opened his mouth and caught a salmon as it flung itself up the waterfall.

 

“I see him.”

 

“That’s Sangilak. He’s been dominating this stretch of river ever since I started my research here,” Newt explained. “It means he gets first pick of the females, the best fishing spot in the river- he’s in charge.”

 

“Sounds like the average office Christmas party.”

 

For that, Percival earned a smack with Newt’s notebook, though the redhead was smiling even as he did it. Percival noticed, then, that the female bear with her cub was moving awfully close to them, and he nudged Newt in return.

 

“Is that…Osha?” he asked, remembering the name of the mother bear who had lost a cub. Newt followed Percival’s gaze, and then nodded.

 

“Osha and Yura, yes.”

 

“Aren’t mother bears with cubs kind of…more dangerous?”

 

“Only if they believe you’re a threat. We haven’t tried to hide our presence or get too close to her. She’s not worried about us,” Newt explained, and then he nodded toward another bear a little farther away. “She’s worried about that one. He’s been eyeing her for days. It’s a risk, bringing Yura down here among so many male bears who would want to kill her, but she has to eat and feed her cub.”

 

“She’s getting…really close,” Percival said, shifting uncomfortably as the mother bear led her cub in closer. “Should we move?”

 

Newt smirked. “No. In fact, we’re better off right here. She’s using us as protection.”

 

“What?”

 

“The male bear is wary of us. He’s a newcomer to the area, he’s not familiar with me,” Newt said, and he sounded proud of Osha. “She can sense that. She knows we’re not a threat, so she’s bringing her cub closer to us to keep the male at bay.”

 

Well, if Percival didn’t already have the idea that bears were smarter than they looked, that would have convinced him. Though it wasn’t easy to stay sitting still in the grass when mother and cub were only about eight meters away from them, the cub peering at them curiously, as if it wanted to come over to them.

 

It was quite possibly the most adorable thing Percival had ever seen; the cub couldn’t have been any bigger than one of the dogs at the cabin, and every move it made looked a bit clumsy.

 

“Now, don’t you start,” Newt said in the cub’s direction, his voice smooth and low. “You don’t need to be coming up to humans. Go on, shoo.”

 

The cub took two steps in their direction, and Newt whistled sharply; that was enough to send the tiny cub stumbling back over to his mom to cling to her leg like a tree trunk. Newt let out a breath that Percival hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

 

“That…was close. I doubt Osha’s patience would have extended to her cub coming over to have a tussle with us.”

 

“… _Now_ you tell me.”

 

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

 

“Newt, I’m in a clearing surrounded by giant bears. I’m existing in a constant state of worry.”

 

Luckily for Percival, there were no more close calls. He could safely say that he’d never had so much information crammed into his head in the space of one morning; he’d never known that a society of bears was so complex, never knew the little tells in their body language that spoke of an accepted mating advance or the beginnings of a fight. Newt even pointed out the female that Pakak had spent the entire mating season chasing around like a lovesick puppy.

 

They went a good distance away from the bears, though, to eat their lunch; it turned out that when it came to food, bears could get a bit more brave and pushy than they should be. That didn’t stop a passing fox from trying to steal from their lunch bag, though, which was more funny than annoying.

 

It was safe to say Percival never imagined that he’d have to worry about a fox stealing his lunch.

 

As the day wore on into evening, Newt gave Percival a curious look. “Are you alright for one more stop before we head back to the cabin?” he asked almost timidly, and Percival nodded.

 

“Might as well. Lead the way,” he said, and Newt smiled shyly and started uphill, not quite toward the cabin yet. Percival followed him up a bluff to the edge of what was nearly a sheer cliff, just as the stars were taking over for the sun.

 

“What are we doing here?” Percival asked, following Newt’s example and sitting down a few feet from the edge, and Newt just smiled a little wider.

 

“You’ll see,” he said, and then he hesitated for a moment and looked out over the view they had of the dense forest. “I wanted to…apologize, first.”

 

Percival raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

 

“For snapping at you. When…when you asked if no one else would come up here with me,” Newt said softly, and Percival scoffed.

 

“You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have pried.”

 

“It was a valid question. It’s not your fault that it’s a sensitive subject,” Newt said, and Percival halted in his words, sensing that Newt wanted to say more. It was times like this that he was better off staying silent, letting Newt put together the words in his own time; Percival knew conversations like this weren’t easy for him.

 

“My father is in Parliament. My mother’s side of the family has owned racehorses going back generations now,” Newt explained. “She even named me after some of her best performing racehorses.”

 

Okay, Percival couldn’t leave that one alone. “She has a racehorse named Newt?” he asked, and Newt laughed, and then blushed.

 

“Newton,” he said. “My full name is Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.”

 

“…I am so sorry.”

 

That drew another laugh from the redhead, the rare expression beautiful on his face. “I know, I know. It’s…pretty bad. But I rarely have need to use my full name, so it’s not as bad as it could be,” he said. “She expected me to take on the business of racing. Become her protégé, so to speak. But I was never interested in the business side of it. I would sneak out just to spend time with the horses; it irritated the trainers to no end.”

 

“She wasn’t too happy with that, was she?”

 

Newt paused for a few moments and looked back out over the forest. “My older brother is…well, perfect,” he said, and though the turn of conversation was a bit awkward, Percival let Newt keep going. “He went into the military, he’s some kind of ridiculous high rank now…my father and mother are so proud of him. They expected me to go into politics, into the family business, the military…something respectable. Instead, I majored in zoology and biology.”

 

Percival could see the shame in Newt’s eyes, despite the fact that he was out here doing what he loved to do; Percival could tell that Newt was born for this, lived for this, and would probably be out here in the field until his dying day, and he wouldn’t regret a single moment- were it not for the lingering guilt. “It wasn’t fair of them to put those expectations on your shoulders,” he said, and Newt sighed.

 

“Even if I’d tried to do as they wanted, I still would have been a failure.” He pointed out. “Having my family’s reputation hanging over me didn’t lend to a particularly successful social life, in my case.”

 

“Newt,” Percival said, and he caught Newt’s eye- and for once, Newt didn’t immediately look away. “You are _not_ a failure. You are anything but. You’re out here trying to make a difference, doing something you love. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

Newt smiled and looked away bashfully. “I think you’re the first person who’s ever told me that,” he said. “My brother, Theseus…he does try, but every time I see him, he only encourages me to ‘aim higher’. Which is all well and good, but…I’m not him.”

 

Percival knew he should say something, should push this a bit further, just to see where it went- maybe tell Newt that he wouldn’t change a thing about him, that he was absolutely perfect how he was- but Newt interrupted his thoughts, nudging him with an elbow.

 

“There it is,” he said, and he nodded toward the sky. “There was unusually high solar activity today, so I knew this would happen.”

 

Percival followed Newt’s gesture, and when he saw the sky, his breath caught for a moment. The sky was full of color, green, blue and purple light dancing in the sky like curtains in a breeze. He didn’t need any of his memories to know that he’d never seen the Northern Lights before, and they were every bit as incredible as he’d imagined.

 

“It’s amazing that it’s all because of charged particles from the sun,” Newt said, and Percival could see that glint in his eye that meant Percival was in for a lecture. “All of this is from the interaction of oxygen, nitrogen, other elements, all interacting with particles from a star.”

 

“Why the different colors?”

 

“Altitude, and the type of elements at play. Oxygen particles create yellow and green coloration, nitrogen results in reds, violets, sometimes blue,” Newt explained with a grin. “There are so many legends, too. In France and Italy they were seen as a bad omen, when they were visible there. Chinese legend speaks of dragons in battle that breathed fire across the sky. The Algonquin believed that it was a sign from their creator that he was watching over them.”

 

“Suppose that’s as good an explanation as any when science isn’t around,” Percival joked, and Newt flashed him a smirk.

 

“That’s not the best legend,” he said, obviously on a roll now, excited to be back on a topic he loved and off the topic of his family. “Many Inuit tribes believed that the lights were the spirits of dead humans playing ball using the skull of a walrus.”

 

“Well that’s…charming.”

 

“The best part is that on Nunavik Island, the legend somehow ended up backwards. They believed the lights were walrus spirits playing with a human skull.”

 

Percival gave Newt an incredulous look, and the redhead laughed again, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t want to know what else went down on that island,” Percival said, which only made Newt laugh harder.

 

Percival honestly could have spent all night watching the glimmer of the Northern Lights dance across Newt’s features, rather than watching the lights themselves. And he might have, were it not for the snow that was beginning to fall, driving them back to the cabin as the temperature rapidly started to drop.

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

When Percival woke the next morning, Newt was sitting on the makeshift bed on the floor with his head in his hands.

 

“Newt?” he said, immediately pushing himself up to get a closer look at Newt, to try and figure out what was wrong. But Newt looked up and smiled at him, though he couldn’t keep the sadness out of his expression.

 

“Good morning, Percival,” he said, as if nothing in the world was wrong, and Percival frowned.

 

“What’s going on?” he asked, and Newt chuckled and sighed.

 

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, and then he looked toward the cage across the room. “Mercutio is…well, healed.”

 

“That’s a good thing, though.”

 

“Yes, but it’s never easy to say goodbye.”

 

Percival should have guessed that, really. Of course Newt would get attached after spending the whole summer nursing the eagle back to health; Percival was pretty fond of the massive bird himself, and he wasn’t nearly as much of a fan of these creatures as Newt.

 

Newt stood up and stretched, and then he took his time putting on his usual work clothes; normally he would move with a brisk efficiency, but not today. Percival followed suit, and by the time he was ready for the day, Newt was standing by the cage.

 

“Alright, you. I know you’ve been dying to fly,” he said, and he pulled on the thick leather glove and grabbed the bowl of meat, and then he popped the cage open. Mercutio hopped onto his arm, and Newt carefully fed him his breakfast, which the eagle readily gulped down before stretching his wings a bit. “I’m going to miss you,” Newt added, his voice softer now, but the eagle just started to preen.

 

“I’m sure you’ll see him around. They don’t migrate or anything, right?” Percival asked, and Newt nodded.

 

“They do, but they always return north in the spring to nest.”

 

“So he’ll be back by the time you come up here next year.”

 

The encouragement seemed to help a bit, and Newt drew in a steady breath and let it out slowly. “Alright. Let’s get you out of this stuffy cabin,” he said, as if talking himself into it, and Percival followed him outside and a few steps past the porch.

 

Mercutio perked up the moment they were outside, those intense eyes focusing on anything and everything that moved, his feathers shining even more beautifully in the sunlight. Newt scratched the eagle’s chest one last time, smiling fondly.

 

“I’ll give you a boost; don’t go ruining my work anytime soon, alright?” he said, and then he lifted and dropped his arm a couple of times to get Mercutio to spread and start to flap his wings, like a warm up.

 

With one final boost the eagle took off into the air, flying as if it had never been injured in the first place. Mercutio gained a bit of altitude, and then did a couple of low, lazy circles, as if testing his wings.

 

“He’s just gorgeous, isn’t he?” Newt said as he took off the leather glove and tossed it on the porch, and Percival’s gaze fell on Newt again, much like the first time he’d seen the view outside this cabin.

 

“Yeah, he is,” he said, obviously not talking about the eagle, and this time when Newt realized it, he looked at Percival and didn’t look away even as his cheeks colored with a blush.

 

It seemed it was now or never, and Percival wasn’t the kind of man to let a moment like this pass.

 

He leaned in and caught Newt in a kiss, slow and soft at first, able to feel his partner’s uncertainty and self-consciousness in the way he stiffened and froze up. He slid one hand to the small of Newt’s back and pulled him in closer, his thumb stroking the skin through layers of cloth there until he felt Newt start to relax the tiniest bit.

 

“Breathe,” he said with a smirk against Newt’s lips, and Newt dragged in a shaky breath and laughed nervously.

 

“So s-sorry,” he managed, his voice quiet, shaky. “I…haven’t done this before.”

 

“Just follow my lead,” Percival said, taking some of the weight off Newt’s shoulders as he tipped the redhead’s chin up with his free hand and kissed him again. This time he was a little more insistent, dragging his tongue across Newt’s lower lip until the man opened up for him with a gasp.

 

And for all that Newt hadn’t done this, it didn’t take much for instinct to kick in. Soon Newt was giving as good as he was getting, winding his hand around the back of Percival’s neck, holding him close. It wasn’t long before Percival was tugging him back toward the cabin door, eager to get out of the cold.

 

After running into both the stairs and the doorway, resulting in more laughing than kissing, they finally managed to get inside and Percival closed the door and pinned Newt back against it with a heated kiss. He pressed their bodies together and felt Newt gasp into the kiss, his arousal a hard line against Percival’s thigh as he bucked up against him.

 

“Percival?”

 

“Mmhmm?” Percival hummed in reply, more focused on sucking a dark mark high on Newt’s throat, out of some primal urge to show off that this was finally his, his to keep. It made Newt gasp and squirm against him before he managed to speak again.

 

“I…I don’t really know what I’m doing, so I apologize if…if it’s not quite…”

 

Percival lifted his head and kissed Newt to stop him midsentence. “You’re far too coherent,” he muttered, determined to have Newt not able to talk in full sentences for once. He gripped Newt’s thighs and hiked him up against the door, pressing in closer and managing to get a whine out of the redhead.

 

“I do know that-ah!” Newt started to say, interrupted by his own cry of surprise as Percival grinded against him roughly. “That it t-tends to work better when both parties are unclothed-“

 

Percival nearly growled, and then he tightened his grip on Newt’s thighs and turned away from the door, carrying him a few steps before gently setting him down on the thick rugs on the floor in front of the fireplace. He stood over him and admired the flush to Newt’s cheeks, the way he was already breathless and restless beneath him; he’d imagined Newt like this, but imagining it and seeing it turned out to be completely different beasts.

 

But before he could kneel down Newt had shifted to his knees, and he reached up for the waist of Percival’s pants, sending him a questioning look- and it took everything in Percival to bite back a moan just at the suggestion. “You sure?” he asked instead, despite the fact that he was already desperate to see Newt’s lips wrapped around him, those green eyes looking up at him just like this.

 

“I’m sure,” Newt said, though he fumbled even as he said the words before he finally tugged Percival’s pants and underwear down and out of the way. Percival stripped off his shirt, his skin overheated as Newt took his cock in hand almost curiously.

 

“Take it slow,” he suggested, as much for him as for Newt, because he didn’t want to lose it like a fifteen year old just because Newt was on his knees in front of him, the glow of the firelight on his face and hair.

 

Newt stroked him from base to tip before following it up with his tongue, and Percival inhaled sharply and stroked his fingers through Newt’s hair. As Newt took him into his mouth, slowly, cautiously, Percival had to fight to keep the grip on his hair gentle, to not pull him down; the instinct to make him take more of it, to see his eyes water and feel his throat around him was ever-present, but Percival was nothing if not patient, and he knew Newt was just learning. Not a good time to go straight to fucking his face.

 

“That’s it,” he urged instead as Newt took him in farther, his tongue rubbing against the underside in a way that made Percival’s hips barely rock forward into the wet heat.

 

Newt was a fast learner, though, and he quickly got a rhythm going, hollowing his cheeks and looking up at Percival through his lashes like he knew exactly what kind of picture he made; but of course he was doing it for entirely innocent reasons, to see Percival’s reaction, make sure he was doing it right.

 

That eagerness to please somehow made it hotter, and Percival’s hips jerked forward just enough that he nearly gagged Newt on his cock with a grunt. He loosened his grip on Newt and let him pull back, and then he leaned over to kiss him.

 

“Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t _really_ sorry, and Newt didn’t look like he minded terribly, either; the zoologist just shook his head with a smile.

 

“S’okay,” he said, and the roughness of his voice alone nearly pulled another moan from Percival, and he was suddenly determined to get Newt out of those clothes. He kicked off his pants the rest of the way and knelt down, already working at the buttons of Newt’s shirt, exposing more and more skin to the fire-warmed air.

 

Newt was more scarred than he’d expected; a trio of claw marks on his ribs, what looked like a bite wound on his shoulder, all scars that looked fairly old. He could see Newt blushing even in the firelight, and he pushed him down on his back on the rugs.

 

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, and he meant it; he set to work practically worshipping each and every scar he found, dragging his tongue across them or nibbling lightly at them to make Newt shiver underneath him. By the time he got all of Newt’s clothes off and tossed aside, the man was a panting mess, clutching at Percival almost desperately.

 

“Please-“ he started, and he didn’t even have to finish for Percival to know what he was pleading for. But, first things first.

 

“Do you have any…?” he started to ask, and Newt groaned and dropped his head back on the rugs.

 

“Second drawer on the left, in my work desk,” he managed to get out, and Percival reluctantly pulled away from him and went to fetch the item in question, which ended up being a tub of Vaseline that was probably used for more scientific purposes on a regular basis. Right now, Percival could not care less; it would work for what they needed it for.

 

He crawled over Newt like a predator and then kissed him hard, stealing his breath away again even as he slicked up two of his fingers. He reached down and stroked Newt’s cock a few times just to make him moan, just to hear that sound for a moment, before he moved his hand farther down and slowly pressed one finger into him.

 

Newt went stiff at first, tensing around him, and Percival pressed kisses to his chest and throat until he felt him start to relax. As soon as he was thoroughly distracted, Percival pressed a second in with the first, and Newt took in a sharp breath, his nails digging in to Percival’s arms.

 

“Relax,” Percival urged him, waiting once again for Newt to adjust before he pressed deeper and began scissoring his fingers to stretch him a bit. He curled his fingers, and after a moment of getting the right angle, Newt practically melted underneath him; the redhead pressed down against his fingers, his hands scrabbling for purchase against Percival’s chest.

 

“That’s it,” Percival said, prodding at that same angle a few more times until Newt was a bit of a wreck, breathing hard and dropping his head back with a whine, giving Percival a chance to add another mark to his bared throat.

 

“Percival- Percival, please,” Newt begged, but Percival only pulled his fingers free to slick them up again, and this time he pressed three into Newt, wanting to avoid as much pain as possible for him. But he couldn’t keep it up for too long; he was only human, and he had three fingers buried in a pleading, desperate, handsome redhead.

 

He pulled his fingers free and slicked up his cock instead, only stroking his hand over it a couple of times; he was so hard it was almost painful, and he would have to take this slow or it would be over embarrassingly fast. As it was, he tugged Newt up to sit on his lap, smirking at the confused look he got.

 

“Take it at your pace,” he said, and Newt understood then, obviously too worked up to be very bashful anymore. Percival helped him get into position, and then he gripped Newt’s waist tightly as the man slowly took him in.

 

He had to stop almost immediately, his body clamping down around Percival almost painfully hard, and Percival stroked his back and held as still as he could until Newt relaxed again. From there it was a smooth glide to take him in the rest of the way, though, and his breath was knocked out of him as he realized that this was actually happening, that Newt was actually in his arms, giving him an almost stunned look, as close as two people could possibly get.

 

“If you could only see how beautiful you look right now,” Percival managed, his voice breathless as he pushed Newt’s hair back from his face, and Newt ducked his head and blushed. Percival just tilted his chin back up and kissed him again, and then he gently pressed his hips up, urging a groan from Newt. With some encouragement he got Newt to start off slow, lifting up on his knees and dropping back down, taking it a bit further each time. The only sounds in the cabin were their breathing, a stifled whine or two from Newt, and the crackling of the fire; but as the moment dragged on, it became more and more difficult for Newt to try and stifle those noises, much to Percival’s amusement.

 

And now that Newt was comfortable, he decided to take things into his own hands. He gripped Newt by the thighs and tipped him over backwards until he was on his back on the rugs, and Percival plunged back into him with a forceful thrust, driving a shout of surprise from the redhead.

 

“Yes, yes, _please_ ,” Newt pleaded, wrapping his arms around Percival to pull him in close, his nails digging in to Percival’s back in a way that was more than encouraging. He pulled back and thrust in again, and again, until he found that angle that made Newt cry out and try to rock into his thrusts.

 

Percival wasn’t going to last much longer, not with Newt clawing at his back and clenching down around his cock, and he gave a guttural moan and pressed Newt’s legs up and back to just get a little bit deeper. That prompted a shout of his name, and he leaned forward, practically bending Newt in two in order to kiss him messily.

 

“Come on,” he urged, Newt’s pupils blown wide with arousal, sweat shining on his skin, and a look on his face that spoke of nothing but overwhelmed pleasure. Percival reached between them and closed his hand around Newt’s cock, fisting it with quick, even strokes. He wanted to see Newt give in to this, wanted to see him overwhelmed with it, overwhelmed with Percival.

 

“ _Oh God_ -“ Newt choked out, but it quickly turned into a helpless moan as he spasmed around Percival and came hard, his toes curling and his nails probably drawing blood as they raked down Percival’s back. Not that he noticed; with Newt clamping down tight around him, Percival couldn’t manage to hold out any longer. He moved one hand to brace on the rug and the other to grip Newt tightly by the waist, and he gave a few more frantic thrusts, rutting into Newt with a choked out groan before he finally went boneless on top of him.

 

Neither of them spoke for a few long moments, Percival stroking his hand down Newt’s side to ease the bruise his grip had probably left, and Newt faintly trembling as he caught his breath. Percival lifted his head and kissed Newt again, this time slow and almost sweet, and Newt smiled into it.

 

“I don’t care who I used to be,” Percival said in a near whisper between kisses. “This is all I want. _You_ are all I want.”

 

“You have me,” Newt murmured in reply, and he smiled and kissed Percival again.

 

Percival would later think that he should have known it was too perfect for the world to leave them be for long.


	5. Mush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He almost lost Newt just in the time it took to walk down to the river and check the fishing lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the action to start! <3
> 
> Next chapter will probably go up on Friday, unless I get into a really good writing groove tomorrow night.

It all came crashing down a couple of days later.

 

They’d been back to their usual routine- granted, with a break here and there to continue Newt’s ‘education’, something that neither of them minded in the least- and Percival felt as if he’d never been happier. Somehow, he just knew that he’d never felt anything like this before, never had something like this, and he was determined to keep it.

 

He almost lost Newt just in the time it took to walk down to the river and check the fishing lines.

 

Newt was hard at work on his notes for the day when Percival went down to check the lines one more time for catches and move them upstream a bit for the night. It was almost bitterly cold out, and a snowstorm overnight had left a foot of pristine white snow over the landscape. It made getting down to the fishing lines more of a struggle than usual, and his leg throbbed with complaints about the freezing temperatures, but he ignored it.

 

When Percival returned, however, he knew something was wrong when he saw the dogs milling about anxiously, barking and pawing in the snow; he was only meters from the porch when he heard a scuffle inside and heard Newt cry out- and then he heard an unfamiliar voice say, “Get the fuck down! Hands behind your head!”

 

His heart stopped, and he felt panic begin to build in him.

 

If he’d thought it were an animal of some kind, he would have busted right through the door, but something told him to get a look inside first, to see how many people there actually were. He ducked over to the side window and carefully peeked inside, every muscle tense with the urge to protect Newt.

 

Newt was kneeling in the middle of the room, and in front of him stood two men- one with a handgun pointed right at Newt’s forehead, the other holding his gun at the ready. Both men were dressed in business casual with thick coats and gloves, their boots caked in snow; definitely not hikers or any kind of person who belonged out here. Percival could see pain on Newt’s face; evidently, he hadn’t cooperated quickly enough for the intruders.

 

“Where is he?” the man with the gun demanded, and Newt stared resolutely down at the floor, despite the fact that the muzzle of a gun was pointed right at him.

 

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “I’m the only one here.”

 

Percival felt a surge of affection for the other man, a surge of pride- these men were no doubt looking for Percival, and still Newt defended him, even when they held all the cards. He needed to do something- they wouldn’t leave Newt unharmed for long if he kept this up.

 

“Bullshit,” the man snapped. “We know you found him. We know he was here. Tell us where he is and I won’t shoot you in the knees and drag you out for the wolves to find.”

 

“There’s no one-“

 

The man lost his patience. He reeled back and struck Newt in the face with the grip of the gun, and as Newt hit the floor with a cry of pain, Percival saw red.

 

He didn’t think. He didn’t consciously make a plan. He just _moved_.

 

He was at the door in moments and opened it just as the man grabbed Newt by the collar of the shirt to haul him up, and though they scrambled to point their guns at him, it took them a beat too long. He dodged the first shot, and then he grabbed the man who’d fired it and twisted his arm around behind him until it broke with a sickening crack. He turned around just in time to put the man between him and the second enemy, so when two gunshots rang out, they buried in his human shield, which he shoved aside.

 

He grabbed the man who’d struck Newt by the gun hand, then yanked him in close, head-butted him with practiced ease, then brought his knee up into the man’s groin. The man’s grip on the gun loosened as he doubled over, and Percival pulled the gun from his hand and threw him to the floor.

 

He didn’t hesitate. He lifted the gun and put a bullet right between the man’s eyes- and then for a split second, the world went dim around him as forgotten words came flooding back.

 

_-“Nice shot, Graves.”_

_“Hardly. He was already down. I just finished him off.”_

_“Still, from that far away, and through a window- I’m impressed.”_

_“I would have preferred not to have to kill him at all, Grindelwald.”-_

 

Percival shook his head and snapped out of it; he couldn’t let himself get lost in the past right now. With both the men dead on the floor, he shoved the gun in his belt and turned his attention to Newt, who’d managed to sit up but was staring at the scene in wide-eyed terror.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked as he knelt next to the redhead, and he winced when he saw blood trailing down from a cut at Newt’s hairline. He cupped Newt’s face with one hand and pushed his hair back from the cut with the other. Newt nodded numbly, and Percival could tell he was in shock; he’d likely never had a gun pointed at him before.

 

He went and got the first aid kit, and he set it down next to Newt on the floor and pulled the gauze out of it. He pushed Newt’s hair back again and pressed the gauze to the cut, holding it there firmly to stop the bleeding.

 

“I don’t think you need stitches. Head wounds always look worse than they actually are,” Percival said, which was kind of funny, considering the fact that there was a man lying on the floor behind him with a hole through his head.

 

Newt was trembling now, barely, like a fine tremor through him as he finally met Percival’s eyes. “P-Percival…what…”

 

“I don’t know,” Percival said, answering the unspoken question. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

 

“How did you…?”

 

Percival’s frown deepened. “I…don’t know that, either.”

 

It hit him like a sledgehammer- what _kind_ of man was he?

 

He’d just killed two men without hesitation. He’d used one as a human shield, put a bullet in the other, all without the slightest pause for moral quandary. And judging from the flash of memory he’d had, he’d done the same thing before- albeit with a hint that he hadn’t wanted to. That was little comfort in the face of the growing pools of blood on the floor and the brain matter splattered across the walls.

 

For a brief moment, he wondered if Newt would be able to look at him the same way; he wouldn’t blame the man for being terrified of him, after that display.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice shook now, with uncertainty and regret. “I’m so sorry, Newt.”

 

“It’s alright,” Newt said, and he took Percival’s free hand in his and squeezed it. “You saved my life. They…they would’ve…”

 

“They came here looking for me. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Newt said stubbornly, some of the color starting to come back to his face now, though Percival could tell he was trying not to look at the carnage around them. Percival knew it was his fault, all of this was, but he wasn’t about to argue when it was obvious that they were in a very bad situation. “How did they even get out here?”

 

Percival thought for only a moment before it clicked. “The snowstorm,” he said. “The wind was so loud this morning, we probably wouldn’t have heard a helicopter come through if it didn’t fly right overhead.”

 

Obviously whoever was after Percival had a dangerous amount of resources at their disposal, if they could send out a helicopter to drop people off in a snowstorm to hunt him down.

 

“We need to leave,” he said, and Newt looked up, startled. “They’ll send more people after us when these two don’t come back. We need to go, as soon as possible.”

 

“Go where?” Newt asked. “The nearest town is five days away by hiking. A little over a day by dogsled. I…I don’t have any other transportation out here, I didn’t…”

 

Percival could tell Newt was already angry with himself for not having some kind of vehicle out here, but he didn’t let him dwell on it. He leaned in and kissed him lightly to halt that line of thought. “Can your dogs pull us both?”

 

Newt nodded. “Of course. It’s a two person sled, they could pull us and our supplies, if we have to-“

 

“We do,” Percival said with a decisive nod. He pulled the gauze away from Newt’s forehead and studied the cut, satisfied that it had stopped bleeding. “Get the dogs ready. I’ll get the emergency kits.”

 

Newt was nothing if not prepared- he had emergency kits made up just in case he needed to travel, and he’d added a second once Percival had recovered. They were backpacks with three days of non-perishable food and water each in them, along with first aid supplies, a two-person tent, sleeping bags, flashlights, knives, cooking supplies, and a compass; each bag only weighed about thirty pounds, once all was said and done.

 

And while Percival did not like the idea of using a dog sled to get out of here, they didn’t have any other choice. Hiking out wasn’t an option, and there was no way to call for help- and even if there were, he wouldn’t use it. Something told him that any normal forms of communication weren’t safe.

 

He found the backpacks and set them by the door, and then he inspected the two men who’d attacked them. He made sure he had both their weapons (Beretta 96 handguns, his mind supplied, and it felt far too comfortable in his hands) and checked the ammo- ten bullets in one, eleven in the other- and then he searched their pockets for anything that might give away their identity.

 

He only found one thing- a business card from a hotel in Seattle. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was all he had.

 

He pulled on his coat and went outside to find Newt sitting on the ground, strapping booties onto the feet of each harnessed dog; the sled sat nearby, looking more tied together than anything else.

 

But Percival trusted him. If Newt said that he could get them to town this way, then he believed him wholeheartedly.

 

The dogs were certainly ready to go. They were barking and milling around Newt with excitement, tails wagging, as if this were a fun game rather than a life or death situation. And for all they knew, it was a fun game. Newt was smiling, talking to them in that soothing tone he used with any of his creatures, but Percival could tell that his expression was strained and his voice a little stressed.

 

Considering what he’d just been through, it was remarkable that he was handling it this well.

 

Newt pulled the last set of booties onto Sadie’s paws, and then he stood up and took a deep breath. “I have to do one more thing,” he said, and then he went back into the cabin. Percival followed, unwilling to leave Newt out of his sight for any length of time after having to see him get hurt once today.

 

Stepping around the blood on the floor with an uneasy glance, Newt gathered up all the research material off his desk and put it all into a wooden box that sat on the back corner of the desk. He picked up the box and carried it over to the floor beside the bed, where he pulled up a loose floorboard to reveal a metal looking box underneath the floor.

 

“This way if any weather gets into the cabin, all my notes will be safe,” he explained as he tugged the latch open and put the wooden box inside. He closed the lid and latched it tightly, and then replaced the floorboard before he stood up.

 

Percival moved in then, and took Newt gently by the waist and pulled him in close. “I’m sorry about this,” he said again. He felt like he couldn’t apologize enough for ruining the peace Newt had up here. “I promise I’ll get you back here safely. If not this year, then for next summer. I swear it.”

 

“I believe you,” Newt said without a moment of hesitation, and it made Percival feel warm despite the chill in the air.

 

He wanted to stay right here, forever, but of course it wasn’t his luck.

 

He kissed Newt again, just to center himself, to remind himself that Newt was still alright, still here. “Come on, then. We need to get back to some semblance of civilization before they send in backup.”

 

For all he knew, backup was already on the way. They surely wouldn’t just send two people.

 

Outside, Newt began to harness the dogs up to the sled; they were less dogs and more fuzzy balls of boundless energy, hopping and dancing in their restraints, tongues lolling out of their mouths, obviously overjoyed to be going for a trip. Newt strapped the emergency packs to the sled, then gestured to that same ‘cargo space’. “Sit down,” he said, and Percival shoved down the blow to his pride of not being able to help more. He climbed on and sat down, hoping the sled was sturdier than it looked.

 

Goggles and gloves landed in his lap, along with a warm winter hat, and he looked up to find Newt putting on the same things. “You’ll need those. The dogs will kick snow onto you,” Newt said as he strapped on his own goggles and tugged the hat down low to cover his ears; he followed that up by strapping on a headlamp. Percival followed his example, not fond of the idea of getting a face full of snow from a sled dog.

 

“You ready?” Newt asked, and Percival chuckled, his breath coming out foggy in the cold air.

 

“As I’ll ever be.”

 

“I would’ve preferred to give you a more relaxing introduction to dog sledding, but I’m afraid you’re going to just have to hold on tight,” Newt said, which didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but Percival had no time to express his doubt. With a sharp command of “ _Hike_!” the dogs leapt forward as if chasing an invisible lure, and the sled jolted to life.

 

Percival always thought dog sledding was like driving a horse carriage, with reins to guide the way, but he quickly figured out that his fate was entirely in the dogs’…well, paws. Newt gave only voice commands to the dogs, with Cooper and Sadie in the lead, and Fae and Balto directly in front of the sled. And they did, in fact, kick up enough snow onto him that it would have been intensely uncomfortable without the goggles in place.                                                                                            

 

It was faster travel than Percival thought it would be, with four dogs pulling like they knew what was at stake for once. He could tell that Newt had done this many times before; he guided the dogs around obstacles with sharp, confident voice commands, and the dogs responded to his voice with no hesitation. Even as the sky began to darken and Newt had to turn on his headlamp to light the path better than the moon and stars provided, the dogs continued to pull as if they would never tire.

 

“How much longer can they run?” he called out to Newt; it had been about an hour, he would guess.

 

“A few more hours, then we’ll let them rest,” Newt said, and he started to say something else, but stopped himself. “Do…do you hear that?”

 

Percival listened, straining to hear over the sound of the runners cutting across the snow underneath him and the sound of paws hitting the ground. He heard it, though, and it was getting louder- the sound of a high-pitched motor.

 

It sounded like a snowmobile, and he had the feeling that was exactly what it was.

 

Newt evidently realized the same thing. “Percival, hold on!” he yelled, and Percival did a double take- was Newt really planning to try and outrun a snowmobile with a four dog sled?

 

Newt made a loud kissing noise, and suddenly the sled lurched forward- they’d already been going fast, or so Percival thought, but now it seemed the dogs had kicked it into overdrive. The motor noise was louder now, and Percival suddenly realized that it was coming from two different directions- two snowmobiles. One came into view over a ridge, and Newt whistled loudly.

 

“Come Haw! _Come Haw_!” he yelled, and the sled made a sudden turn to the left, sliding across the snow in a way that almost felt out of control- and taking them right into a rather thick stand of trees. Percival realized what Newt was trying to do- lose the snowmobiles or outmaneuver them in the thicker foliage. A gunshot went off, and Percival resisted the urge to pull one of his own weapons- it wouldn’t do any good when he couldn’t move without throwing the sled off balance.

 

But if they stopped the sled, their pursuers would have the advantage.

 

The second snowmobile pulled up closer to them, just one the other side of some trees. “On by, on by!” Newt yelled to the dogs, and then the other snowmobile started to come in closer, and another gunshot rang out. Percival heard the splinter of the bullet hitting wood somewhere behind his head.

 

“Come Gee!” Newt shouted, and the sled lurched right, forcing the snowmobile to adjust suddenly.

 

It compensated, and then the driver pulled in close, too close-

 

There was a loud bang, and suddenly Percival went tumbling through the snow. He heard both snowmobiles stop, and he grabbed his handgun from his belt and stumbled to his feet, easily firing first at the man headed toward him. The man stumbled and went down with a cry of surprise and pain.

 

Then he heard the most terrifying sound he’d ever heard in his life- the roar of an extremely angry bear.

 

He turned just in time to see the man standing over Newt’s motionless form turn around, and he didn’t even recover from the shock in time to fire before Pakak was on him, claws tearing in and teeth clamping down as he tackled the man to the ground. Percival rushed to Newt’s side, looking over him for any sign of injury.

 

“Newt,” he said desperately, tugging Newt’s goggles out of the way, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Newt’s eyes focused on him.

 

“I’m alright,” Newt said, fighting to sit up, and Percival helped him. He looked up to find that the man beneath Pakak had gone still, and the bear’s paws and muzzle were smeared red with blood as his attention focused on Percival. He roared again, and Newt stumbled to his feet, taking a couple of steps toward the bear.

 

“Newt, don’t-“ Percival started, but Newt shushed him before turning back to Pakak. “It’s alright. Mummy’s here, mummy’s fine,” he said to the furious creature, and it snorted and paced in the snow as Newt moved in closer. But after a few long moments, Pakak seemed to calm.

 

Newt reached out and scratched the bear behind the ears, which seemed to relax Pakak even more even as Percival stood and took the tentative steps over to them. Newt leaned in and hugged Pakak like he was a household pet and not a bloodstained predator, and as Percival reached them, he could hear Newt murmuring to the bear.

 

“Thank you,” he said softly, and Percival was beginning to realize just how strange this really was- Pakak had evidently been close enough to hear the commotion, and he’d gone after that man for attacking Newt.

 

Newt had once saved the bear’s life, and Pakak had just returned the favor in dramatic fashion.

 

“I’ll come back. I promise,” Newt said as he straightened up. Pakak made a disgruntled noise and paced a couple of times before he lumbered off into the trees, licking at his bloodied muzzle.

 

With the bear no longer watching over Newt like an angry mother, Percival moved in. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, and Newt took in a deep breath and nodded.

 

“He hit the sled. Just gave me a bit of a shock,” he said, and he turned back to the sled and righted it, then shoved the brake into the snow. The dogs were anxious, ready to move, pawing at the snow as they waited for the humans. Newt inspected the damage to the sled and got out the duct tape to do some quick repairs, and Percival took that time to inspect the dead men who’d been pursuing them.

 

The one he shot had another handgun on him, and he took it and stowed it in his bag, making sure to reload the one he had in his belt.

 

The other man was…well, Percival hoped that Newt wouldn’t get a good look at him. His chest was flayed open and his face was just…gone. He would be unrecognizable as human from the neck up, were it not for the hair.

 

It was a stark reminder of just what was at stake out here, among so many bears who weren’t all as friendly as Pakak.

 

He took the man’s bloodied coat off, took his weapon, and then draped the coat over his chest and face to hide the carnage before he made his way back over to the sled. Newt had just finished repairing the sled as best he could, and he looked up at Percival, his expression nervous.

 

“Do you think they’ll be any more?” he asked, and Percival took in a deep breath.

 

“Probably not,” he said, though he wasn’t sure at all. He didn’t know who was after him, or why- just that they had speed and resources that were startlingly efficient. “We should move as quick as we can, though.”

 

Newt nodded and looked over his dogs. “We can go a few more hours before they’ll need rest. After that, we should be able to go straight on to Unalakleet without stopping.”

 

“Do they have an airport?”

 

“Yes. We should be able to get transportation to Anchorage from there,” Newt said, and then he hesitated a moment before he met Percival’s gaze and spoke again. “What are we going to do from there?”

 

“I’m going to find the authorities and make sure you’re protected, first of all,” Percival said, and for what was probably the first time, Newt gave him a glare.

 

“Excuse me?” he said. “You’re going to drop me off and _leave_?”

 

“You’re in danger because of me, Newt.”

 

“No. No, that’s not how this works,” Newt said, shaking his head. “We’re in this together. It’s not your fault, and I’m not abandoning you to it.”

 

“You could be _killed_.”

 

“I study _predators_ for a living, Percival. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a bit of danger doesn’t scare me off.”

 

Percival wanted to object. He wanted to point out that he’d already seen Newt with a gun to his head, and that he didn’t ever want to see anything like it again. But he knew from the fire in those green eyes that it was a losing battle; Newt had metaphorically and probably literally dug his heels into the snow, and he wasn’t going to change his mind now.

 

It was both touching and intensely frustrating.

 

“I need to get to Seattle,” he said, giving in. “One of those men was carrying a business card from a hotel there. It’s the only lead I have to whoever might be after me.”

 

“Then Seattle it is,” Newt said with a nod, and he tugged his goggles and hat back on. “Well, let’s not waste time. We have a long way to go yet.”

 

“For the record,” Percival said, holding up one of his hands. “I’m going to bet that this is the first time someone’s had to escape by dogsled while being chased down and shot at.”

 

Newt smiled and ducked his head, just a little. “It’s not exactly built for a high speed chase, but my dogs do their best,” he said. “Now get on and let’s get going. We should get as far as we can before dawn, while we’re harder to track. Hopefully it will snow and cover our trail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, if you told me a month ago that I'd be writing out a high speed chasing involving guns and snowmobiles and dog sleds and bears, I would have asked you where you got the awesome drugs you're on.


	6. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just fall backward. Think of it as…a trust fall from a few thousand feet up.”
> 
> “You’re not funny.”
> 
> Percival chuckled. “See you on the ground, Newt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes I am a horrible author who gives poor Newt a hard time in this chapter
> 
> and perhaps the next too, but we'll see
> 
> Also, next update will go up Sunday night! <3

It was far, far too cold for camping.

 

The dogs were in heaven; they loved the eight-degree weather, didn’t mind the wind chill dipping below zero in the night. After hours of running, they spent a few minutes rolling in the snow and eating mouthfuls of it to cool off as Percival watched incredulously.

 

“Do they ever get cold?” he asked Newt as the redhead got out the tent that would protect them from the wind while they slept. Newt chuckled, his breath puffing white in the freezing air.

 

“Once had a freak storm drop the temperature down to negative forty,” he said, starting to set up the small tent with ease. “I brought them inside and let them sleep with me that night because I saw them shivering even in the straw beds in their doghouses.”

 

Percival shuddered. He had the feeling that at negative forty, he would be dead. It made him feel better to know that Newt had been inside, safe, and curled up with four other warm bodies; the fireplace in the cabin surely wouldn’t hold back that fierce of a chill.

 

He wasn’t familiar with putting up a tent, so instead he made himself useful by getting out food and water for both of them- just granola bars and packages of dried fruit, but it was definitely better than nothing. It didn’t take long for Newt to get the tent set up, and he gestured for Percival to follow him in.

 

“Come on. The dogs will let us know if anything gets close.”

 

It was a cold night, even inside a sleeping bag and a tent, and any sleep Percival got was restless. He woke to nearly every sound, even that of the dogs moving around outside; he was briefly jealous of Newt’s ability to seemingly sleep anywhere soundly. Though even Newt wasn’t immune from the cold- more than once Percival found him shivering during the night, and he wished the sleeping bags were big enough for two, even though he was too cold himself to have helped much with the warmth.

 

When dawn finally started to light up the thin tent Newt began to slowly wake, and he blinked a few times as if not quite remembering where he was or why. He flinched and reached up to touch the cut on his head, which must have been aching, but Percival caught his hand and held it.

 

“Don’t bother it. It’s still healing,” he said, not without yet amother rush of guilt at the fact that Newt had been injured because of him. He still remembered the near uncontrollable fury that took hold of him when Newt was struck down like that.

 

“How long did I sleep…?” Newt asked, still groggy, and Percival kissed his forehead.

 

“A few hours,” he said. “Time to get moving again.”

 

The air outside was just as cold as the night before; it smacked into Percival like a wall of ice as Newt unzipped the tent and stepped outside. Percival shuddered, cursed the freezing wind, and then started to roll the sleeping bags up to pack them away.

 

It was tempting, for a moment, to throw his bag onto one of the abandoned snowmobiles and make better time to Unalakleet, but that wasn’t an option for a couple of reasons- first, the possibility of running out of gas, and second, the idea of abandoning the dogs out here wasn’t acceptable to Percival. He wouldn’t even dare suggest such a thing to Newt if even he balked at the idea; sure, the dogs could survive the weather, but they were still just dogs in a wilderness full of wolves and bears.

 

It only took a few minutes to get everything packed and onto the sled. Percival sat down on the sled as Newt checked over each dog, made sure they all had booties on, and then harnessed them up to the line again. The dogs, of course, were ready and eager to get moving.

 

Percival was more than a bit jealous of their complete apathy toward the frigid temperature.

 

“How long till Unalakleet?” Percival asked as Newt got behind the sled and stepped onto the runners, the brake still firmly in the snow- otherwise the dogs would be off and running already.

 

“Should make it there before nightfall. Good conditions for the dogs,” Newt replied from behind scarf and goggles, and Percival snorted. Of course it was good conditions for the dogs; meanwhile, he was pretty sure he was going to freeze to the sled before they got there.

 

Thankfully, the trip went much smoother than yesterday. There was no pursuit, no gunshots, no mysterious men chasing them down on snowmobiles; just the sound of the runners cutting across the thick snow, and the sound of paws hitting the ground and the dogs panting as they ran. It was peaceful, really. He probably would have enjoyed it had it not been for the biting cold.

 

And Newt was right; they did make it there just as the sun began to set. The ‘town’ itself was on a peninsula jutting out into the bay, and seemed to be a collection of low-lying buildings in the snow.

 

“This is a town?” Percival questioned. It looked more like a village.

 

“One of the biggest towns in the area. Paved roads, two general stores, a school, a pizzeria- not many cars, though. People here use ATVs. Gas is over six dollars a gallon,” Newt explained as he guided his dogs to a stop next to a house on the edge of town.

 

He put the brake firmly in the snow and helped Percival out of the sled when he flinched at the pain from his leg, but he quickly recovered and followed Newt to the door of the rickety-looking red house. Newt knocked lightly, and after a pause and a shuffle from inside, the door swung open to reveal a short, heavyset woman with dark skin, thick braided hair, and a kind smile. The inside of her house looked like an antique store, from what Percival could see; handmade knickknacks and artwork on every wall and surface, all the furniture wooden and probably handmade.

 

“Newton Scamander! What are you doing in town?” she asked with a light accent that Percival couldn’t quite place. She pulled Newt into a hug, and then seemed to notice Percival behind him and pulled away. “And where have you been hiding this handsome fellow? I didn’t know you had company this year!”

 

“It’s a long story,” Newt said with a smile. “Lori, this is Percival. Percival, this is Lori Begaye. She helps travelers who come through here.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Percival said, and Lori proceeded to pull him into a hug, too.

 

“Always nice to see a new face around here. But it’s a bit early in the season for you to be passin’ through; what’s wrong, Newt?” she asked, and Newt sighed.

 

“It’s…kind of a personal emergency. I can’t really say yet,” he said. “Could we stay in your spare trailer for the night? And could you call the two Wolff boys down here? I have a favor to ask them.”

 

“Of course,” Lisa said, and she took a key off a hook by the door and handed it to Newt. “You two go get settled in. I’ll send Chaz and Charlie your way.”

 

Newt thanked her, and then led the way around to the back of the house, where a small white trailer sat. “This is where I usually stay on my way in and out of town,” he explained to Percival as he opened up the door and led the way inside. It was a basic motorhome, all bare furnishings and pale walls, but with a large bed in the curtained off back room; but best of all, it was _warm_.

 

Percival had begun to forget what an actual heated house felt like.

 

“Who are Charlie and Chaz?”

 

“A couple of locals. Good kids. They volunteer to help when the Iditarod passes through here every year,” Newt explained, though he looked stressed. “They’re the only ones I would trust to take care of my dogs while I’m away.”

 

Oh. _Oh._ Percival had forgotten that the dogs couldn’t go with them from here; Newt would have to leave them.

 

“Where do your dogs usually stay while you’re in Africa for the winter?” he asked softly.

 

“With Jacob. But we’ll just have to catch a ride with whichever pilot is available tomorrow; most wouldn’t allow four dogs on board, even if it weren’t unrealistic to bring them,” Newt said, and then he smiled, though it was forced. “They’ll be fine. Chaz and Charlie have three dogs of their own. It’ll be like…a vacation.”

 

Percival couldn’t help the guilt that stung at him again; first Newt was attacked twice, and now he had to leave his dogs on the edge of the Arctic Circle. “I’m sure if you can get word to Jacob, he’ll come pick them up,” he said, and Newt sighed and nodded.

 

“Yes, I’m sure he will,” he agreed, and then he opened the door again. “Let’s unpack the sled while we wait.”

 

The Wolff boys were good kids indeed; both teenagers, and when they arrived they assured Newt that they would take care of his dogs as if they were their own until he came back to get them. It was hard enough to say goodbye to the dogs, but watching Newt fight back tears as he promised his dogs he would come back for them…well, it was almost too much.

 

By the time the two boys took the dogs and departed it was dark outside, and there was no one at the tiny airstrip; they could only bunker down for the night in the trailer and wait for dawn.

 

At least it was warm; that, and it was nice to share a full size bed with Newt for once.

 

The peace didn’t last. Just before dawn, Percival woke up to the sound of a helicopter; and there was only one reason a helicopter would be all the way out here.

 

“Newt,” he said, shaking the redhead gently until he woke. “Newt, we need to get ready to move.”

 

“What?” Newt asked groggily, and then he heard the helicopter and snapped the rest of the way awake almost immediately. Percival pushed down any panic as he and Newt quietly got dressed; there was no way that they would be found in this random trailer, right? There had been no one around to see them go in. This was just a precaution, getting ready in case they needed to move.

 

But then again, this wasn’t a big town. It wouldn’t be long before they were caught, especially now that the sun was starting to light up the landscape. The sound of the rotors was all too close; the helicopter hadn’t landed far away, and it set Percival’s nerves on edge.

 

And then, he had a flash of memory; hands on the controls, the rhythmic sound of rotor blades above, and the feeling of flight.

 

He knew what they needed to do.

 

“Newt; do you trust me?” he asked, and Newt gave him a startled look.

 

“Of course. Why?” he asked, and Percival grabbed his backpack and gestured toward the door.

 

“Follow me. I have an idea.”

 

Newt picked up his backpack and followed Percival out of the trailer, and Percival moved carefully, peering around the corner to try and see where the helicopter was. It had landed just on the outskirts of town in a snow-covered parking lot, and as he watched, two men jumped out and started walking into town.

 

They weren’t dressed for the weather- just like most of the other people who’d followed and attacked them.

 

“Come on,” he said, and he jogged around the corner toward the helicopter. He ducked behind a parked truck, and waited for the two men to go out of sight behind a building before he grabbed Newt’s arm and dragged him in a flat sprint toward the helicopter.

 

If the men lost their helicopter, they couldn’t give chase- and this was their ticket out to Anchorage.

 

“Get in,” he said with a gesture toward the passenger side, and he opened the door, climbed into the pilot seat, and tossed his bag in the back before he reached across and opened the passenger door for Newt. Newt hesitated with a hand on the door and a foot on the skid, and he looked at Percival warily.

 

“You can fly this?” Newt asked in disbelief, and Percival nodded, motioning for Newt to climb in.

 

“Yes. Hurry,” he said, and Newt paused with an almost fearful look before he climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut. Percival couldn’t remember ever flying a helicopter, but he somehow just knew that he’d done this before, that he knew what to do.

 

Engine start button until the engine fired, check the flight computer for lights and fluid levels, slowly depress fuel cut off, roll on throttle to increase engine rpms- it was a pattern that he somehow knew well, despite having no memory of having actually done it before. But it all came back to him as naturally as riding a bike.

 

 _A little left pedal to counteract the torque, a little left cyclic, right skid lifts first,_ he thought as he started to bring up the collective. The on board computer produced a running scrawl of the weather conditions and the engine status as the helicopter lifted off the ground, and as soon as he was clear, Percival nudged the cyclic lever forward to get them moving in the right direction.

 

It was second nature. Whoever he was before, he had done this many, many times- a fact that seemed to stun Newt, who looked at him wide eyed.

 

“Did you know you could fly a helicopter?” he asked, speaking loudly to be heard over the rotors, and Percival laughed.

 

“Not until about five minutes ago.”

 

“…oh dear Lord, give me strength,” Newt muttered, which only made Percival laugh again, because it was a bit ridiculous. Newt had just climbed into a helicopter with a pilot who didn’t remember he could fly a helicopter in the first place.

 

It was, he thought, a good demonstration of the faith the man had in him.

 

He had to admit, though, the view from up here was stunning. Other than the coastal town they’d lifted off from, he could see nothing but wilderness in all directions, the green of trees and the blue of ocean. He wasn’t distracted for long, though, before he looked at the fuel gauge and cursed.

 

“How far is it to Anchorage?” he asked, and Newt paused in thought.

 

“Almost four hundred miles.”

 

“Well, we have enough just enough fuel to get there, but we can’t.”

 

Newt frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, we can’t?”

 

Percival nodded toward the monitor feeding him the flight information. “This helicopter is top of the line technology. If we take it to Anchorage, they’ll be right on our heels.”

 

“Then they can track us anywhere, not just Anchorage.”

 

“Exactly. We need to be out of this helicopter before it…well, lands.”

 

There was a beat of silence, and then Newt’s eyes went wide in terror as the realization hit him.

 

“No. No, absolutely not!”

 

“Newt-“

 

“I am not jumping out of a _perfectly good_ helicopter!”

 

“There are parachutes in the back.”

 

“That does not change my mind, Percival!”

 

“You hug bears for a living, what’s jumping out of a helicopter compared to that?”

 

“It was one bear! I do not frolic around hugging bears at random!”

 

Percival scoffed. “If we’re in or near this helicopter when it lands, we’re dead. So you’re either going to have to take your chances with a parachute, or end up staring down the barrel of a gun again, Newt.”

 

Percival hated to put it so plainly, especially when he could tell Newt was so distressed, but he knew they absolutely couldn’t just fly the helicopter up and land at the airport like a normal flight. Newt closed his eyes for a few moments, and though Percival couldn’t hear it, he knew the man was taking a very deep breath to calm himself.

 

“You are never allowed to complain about how dangerous my work is ever again,” Newt finally said, which was as much agreement as Percival was going to get out of him. He would take what he could get right now.

 

“We’ll fly as close as we can, then I’ll take her high and point her away from the city, put on the AFCS, and we’ll bail,” he said. “That way when it goes down, no one will be hurt, and they’ll be delayed in figuring out what happened.”

 

“Until they find me flattened on the ground with a busted parachute.”

 

“Newt, _honestly_. I’ve done it before. It’s not that bad.”

 

“You can’t say that when you don’t actually remember doing it.”

 

“Are you…are you scared of heights?” Percival asked, realizing that Newt was protesting a bit too much for this to be a simple ‘afraid the parachute will fail’ type of jump. Newt glanced at him but then looked away quickly, a distressed look on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“…perhaps a little. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re asking me to jump out of a helicopter. _I_ never asked _you_ to hug a bear.”

 

Percival snorted, but gave up the fight; he had the feeling it wasn’t one he could win. At this point, Newt would just have to trust him enough to jump out of a helicopter- and somehow, he knew that Newt would. He knew Newt trusted him, even in this completely ludicrous situation, even with a deep-seated fear dogging his steps.

 

The remainder of the flight was spent mostly in silence; it was difficult to be heard over the rotors, and Percival could tell that Newt was getting more and more anxious as they got closer to the drop point. When they were a few minutes away, he set the AFCS to keep taking them straight ahead, and he got the emergency parachutes out of the back.

 

“Okay, strap this on,” he said, and Newt hesitated only a moment before he unbuckled himself and pulled on the parachute. Percival buckled and tightened every single strap and then double-checked them just for peace of mind before he pulled on his own parachute and secured it.

 

“Okay. When we get there, you’re going to open up your door, grip the helicopter here and here,” he said, pointing to two hand grips near the top of the doorway, “And then you’re going to fall out backward, count to four, and pull this cord firmly. If nothing happens, this cord down here is your reserve.”

 

Newt looked even more pale than usual, making his many freckles stand out even more. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he said, his voice barely strong enough to be heard over the rotors, and Percival reached up to cup his face with one hand.

 

“You can. You have to,” he said firmly. “Bend your knees when you’re about to land. Go into a roll if you land unbalanced. Just stay put wherever you set down, and I’ll find you. I swear.”

 

“Percival, don’t make me do this-“

 

Percival leaned in and kissed Newt on the forehead, trying to ignore the way the redhead was trembling. “You can do this,” he said again, no trace of doubt in his voice. “I promise you, you’ll be safe. I’ll keep you safe through all of this. I wouldn’t ask you to do this unless I knew you could.”

 

It was time. He could hear the airport at Anchorage trying to hail them, and he sat back down and took control of the helicopter. He pointed it away from the city and started to climb; the more time their chutes had to catch air and slow them, the better.

 

“It’s time,” he said once they’d reached a safe altitude, and he set the AFCS to go on a straight heading- it would run out of gas in fifteen minutes or so and crash in the wilderness. He reached past Newt and opened his door, and the sound of the wind and rotors roared in, nearly deafening- along with the freezing cold that took his breath away for a moment.

 

Newt took one look out the door and swallowed hard, probably fighting back the urge to be sick, from the look of it.

 

“Alright. Hands here and here,” he said, turning Newt toward him and guiding his hands into position. Newt was shaking now, more scared than Percival had ever seen him- and he’d seen him with a gun to his head.

 

“Percival,” he choked out, but Percival just did a final check of the straps and buckles on his parachute, satisfied that everything was in place.

 

“Remember, count to four, pull the cord. There are two bright yellow loops that will be above you on either side; those are your toggles. Pull on those to steer to an open landing spot. I’ll be right behind you. Just wait for me,” he said. “Just fall backward. Think of it as…a trust fall from a few thousand feet up.”

 

“You’re not funny.”

 

Percival chuckled. “See you on the ground, Newt.”

 

“Wait-“

 

Percival knew Newt wasn’t going to be able to let go on his own. He leaned in and kissed him, and then gave him a firm push backwards out of the helicopter. Newt’s shout of surprise was quickly lost in the deafening wind, and Percival turned and picked up his backpack and pulled it on backwards so it was in front of him; they would have to make do on one pack, since Percival hadn’t dared throw that extra weight on a panicked Newt. With the pack in place, he took a deep breath and easily leaned and fell forward out the open door of the helicopter.

 

It wasn’t like a rollercoaster or a bungee jump; there was no sensation of a sudden drop. It was more like sticking a limb out a car window, feeling that intense rush of air that made it difficult to breathe, like the wind stole the air from his lungs. He had the feeling he would normally enjoy this part more, the free-fall that felt more like flying than being in a plane ever would, but he was too close to the ground to take the chance; he pulled his parachute cord, and grunted as he was suddenly pulled upright by the nylon canopy that opened above.

 

As soon as he’d taken hold of the toggles, he looked around for Newt and sighed with relief when he saw the white and blue nylon of a parachute maybe half a mile away; Newt’s parachute had opened, so all he needed to do was manage to steer himself away from the trees.

 

Percival smiled; he’d known Newt could do it. Suddenly, he had the urge to take Newt skydiving from an actual airplane someday, in tandem, so he could prove that it wasn’t a fluke.

 

But for now, he needed to focus on getting himself to the ground safely. He tried not to get distracted by the amazing views of Anchorage on the horizon in one direction, past that the ocean, and mountain on the other side of him, and he attempted to steer toward where Newt disappeared behind the trees. The ground rushed up at him faster and faster as he got closer, and he steered himself into a clearing and landed with ease, bending his legs a bit to absorb the shock at first.

 

It hurt more than it should have; his bad leg certainly wasn’t happy about it. But he managed to stay upright and strip off the parachute, and he tossed it to the ground and moved his backpack around onto his back. Once he was sorted, he turned to head in Newt’s direction as quickly as possible.

 

Though he did start to wonder how to properly apologize to him; somehow ‘sorry I pushed you out of a helicopter, darling’, just didn’t seem like it would cut it.

 

 


	7. Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt fell asleep quickly, but Percival had trouble. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he was wrong- what if he was the bad guy? What if these people had a perfectly good excuse for hunting him down?
> 
> What if he wasn’t everything Newt had such faith in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back for another chapter of 'my life sucks more and more by the day: by Percival Graves'
> 
> Next update will go up Tuesday night!

Normally with his adrenaline this high, it would be a struggle for Percival to focus on anything but the rush of having just jumped out of a helicopter. But right now there was only one thing his mind was focused on, and that was meeting back up with Newt and making sure he was okay.

 

The only saving grace of the hike was that the sun was starting to warm up the air just a bit, and the wind had died down a little since last night. But it was still bitterly cold, and his boots sunk into the snow with every step; it took ten minutes of walking before he saw a hint of white and blue through the trees.

 

“Newt?” he called out, hoping that Newt had managed to land safely- with no handy cabin nearby to retreat to, a broken limb would be hell to deal with.

 

“Over h-here,” Newt’s voice called back, and Percival broke into a run; Newt sounded…off.

 

He found the edge of the tree line where it gave way to the banks of a half frozen stream, and he spotted Newt sitting by the edge of it, knees pulled up to his chest and his whole body shaking. Percival rushed to his side and reached out to touch him- and he realized the problem when his hand instinctively jerked back from the freezing cold of Newt’s soaked clothing.

 

“Shit,” he said, looking Newt over. “You landed in the stream?”

 

Newt lifted his head and laughed weakly. “It was either that or hit the t-trees,” he said, and then his tone turned accusatory. “You p-pushed me out of a helicopter.”

 

“I had to. You weren’t going to jump,” Percival pointed out as he swung the backpack to the ground and dug in it for the tent and a sleeping bag. “I’ll apologize later when you’re not freezing to death, alright?”

 

“M’not.”

 

“Your lips are blue and your clothes are freezing over. You can’t say you’re ‘not freezing to death’ when there is literally ice forming on your skin.”

 

Luckily, Newt didn’t try to argue the point. He was probably too cold to bother. Percival managed to get the tent up- well, it was standing and would protect them from the wind, and that was enough for the moment- and he opened it up and then went to Newt’s side.

 

“Come on. We need to get you dried off and warmed up,” he said, and he wrapped an arm around Newt’s waist and helped him to his feet. Newt’s legs nearly gave out at first, but Percival held him steady and guided him into the tent.

 

“Get those clothes off,” he said as he zipped up the tent, though as he turned back to Newt he realized that the redhead was getting nowhere fast with hands that were trembling and probably numb. He moved in to help, despite his own hands burning at the cold as he helped Newt strip off all his wet clothes. Percival put them aside, and then unrolled the sleeping bag; Newt definitely didn’t protest, and slid into the sleeping bag without complaint. There was ‘being in a cold tent’, and then there was ‘being in a cold tent while damp and naked’.

 

“We’ll get moving as soon as you’re warm. We can’t be more than a day from Anchorage,” he explained, cupping Newt’s face in his hands and kissing him lightly. “I am sorry I pushed you out of a helicopter.”

 

“I’ll f-forgive you when I can feel my toes again,” Newt said with a weak smile, practically burrowing down into the thick fabric of the sleeping bag. “What are we going to do when we get to Anchorage?”

 

Percival paused to consider. They couldn’t just go to the airport and hop on a plane; they had no IDs (Newt’s had been in his bag, Percival was sure of it), no money, and therefore no way to buy tickets or get onto the plane. If they went by car, though, it would be days of driving, and they would never get past border control.

 

“I’m not sure. We’ll have to see what the situation is there,” he said. “Maybe we’ll be able to talk to the police there and get some help.”

 

“Jacob can fly us to Seattle,” Newt offered. “Not direct- he would need to stop for fuel, maybe a couple of times- but he could get us there.”

 

“We might have to take him up on that,” Percival said, despite not wanting to drag another civilian into this mess.

 

 _Wait, civilian?_ Why in the world did he just call him a ‘civilian’? Who talked like that, really?

 

He brushed it off. It was just a word; he could hardly make anything meaningful of it. He concentrated on getting some food and water ready for them; they hadn’t had anything since last night, and they both needed to keep their strength up.

 

But first, getting Newt warm. Getting dunked in ice water when the wind chill was below zero was far from a damn joke; minutes of delay could mean permanent damage. So when he saw that Newt was still shivering even inside the sleeping bag, Percival laid down and pulled him in close, sleeping bag and all.

 

“Come on, warm up for me. We need to get you to the city and into some central heat, but we can’t do that until you’re not a popsicle anymore,” he joked, even though he didn’t feel like joking at all. “There’s a change of clothes in the backpack you can wear, and you can have my coat.”

 

“T-Then you won’t have one,” Newt pointed out, his voice muffled against Percival’s chest, and Percival laughed and kissed the top of his head.

 

“I’m not the one who decided to take a dip in water more suited for a polar bear,” he teased. Newt started to laugh but it quickly turned into a coughing fit, and Percival held him closer, praying that he wouldn’t get sick from this. He really couldn’t afford to, not with the insanity they were dealing with right now.

 

He sighed and ran his fingers through Newt’s hair; at least he’d managed to keep his head above water. “You know, most people meet, go on a date, then a few more dates; this sort of thing doesn’t usually start with broken limbs and grizzly bears and jumping out of helicopters.”

 

He felt more than heard Newt chuckle. “Well, I think I’ve fairly well shown that I’m not good at doing things like ‘most people’,” he pointed out, and at least his teeth had stopped chattering. He was getting warmer now, the shivering down to more of a fine tremor through him.

 

“You really aren’t.”

 

“Are you…complaining?” Newt asked, and he actually pulled away to look up at Percival, his expression a bit nervous. “We could, I don’t know…do a normal ‘date’ thing. Sometime. When people aren’t chasing us and trying to kill us.”

 

Percival couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, Newt. I have the feeling a normal date wouldn’t suit us. Not after our first was you taking me out to a field full of grizzly bears,” he pointed out. “Anything else would be a bit anticlimactic now, don’t you think?”

 

Newt smiled shyly and ducked his head. “I suppose so.”

 

Percival was silent for a few long moments, and when he spoke again, it was softer, more serious. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want you to know that,” he said, and Newt tugged him into a kiss.

 

“Glad to hear it, Percival.”

 

They waited for another fifteen minutes or so before Percival finally let Newt crawl out of the thick sleeping bag, and he immediately helped him into the spare change of clothes and Percival’s coat. Newt was still too pale, his skin too cold for Percival’s comfort, but hopefully he would warm up more once they started to walk.

 

They ate quickly and packed up the tent even quicker, and then it was off toward Anchorage. The wilderness was different here; less wildlife roamed freely this close to the city, and there was the frequent sound of planes flying overhead to and from the airport in Anchorage.

 

It was the same Alaska he’d been in for months, and yet it was worlds different. He found that he preferred the peaceful Alaska that Newt had taught him to love.

 

“Why Alaska?” he asked, starting a conversation partly to distract himself from being even colder without a coat on, and Newt did a double take, tilting his head in confusion.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Percival gestured vaguely. “You’re from England. Of all the places in the world to study animals, why go to one of the coldest?” he asked, and Newt smiled, just a bit.

 

“I knew I wanted to study large predators, endangered species, misunderstood creatures. I spent a couple of winters in Africa studying hippopotamus and leopards, even spent some time in South America observing jaguars, but then I heard they were having trouble with hunters going after wolves here in Alaska,” he explained, and then he shrugged. “It was somewhere I hadn’t been, animals I wasn’t comfortable with. I decided to give it a try, see if I couldn’t learn enough to figure out how to discourage the hunting.”

 

“Seems like too big a job for one person.”

 

“It is. Unfortunately, not many people like to spend all their time figuring out how to stop people from killing wolves. And most of those that will are more focused on the populations in Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. But…I do what I can.”

 

Percival held back a branch so Newt could step past, his expression falling into a frown. “You’ve shared so much, and all you know about me is that someone really wants me caught or dead,” he pointed out, and Newt smiled at him, a genuine smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

 

“I’ve told you before and I will tell you again, Percival; I don’t care who you were before. I don’t care why someone is so desperate to find you. And although I’m really quite curious as to how you know how to fight like James Bond and fly a helicopter without even thinking twice about it, I’d be perfectly fine not knowing, because that’s…”

 

He hesitated, and Percival raised an eyebrow. “That’s…what?” he asked, and Newt’s cheeks reddened and he looked away.

 

“That’s not why I fell for you,” he said quietly. “You believed in me and my cause when everyone else ridicules me, tells me I’ve gone mad. It…means a lot.”

 

“I could say the same of you. Anyone else put at gunpoint like that probably would have run the other way.”

 

“Yes, well…even had I been tempted to run, it likely would have just meant there would be a bullet in my back instead of my head. I doubt that they would have let me live, even had I given them what they wanted,” Newt pointed out, squinting to see through the trees ahead; Percival could relate. It was hard not to go completely snow blind out here.

 

“They say that people show their true character when they’re facing down death,” he said, and Newt laughed humorlessly and shook his head.

 

“When I die, I just want to know I was true to myself. Nothing heroic. Just…honest,” he said, and Percival shuddered- he didn’t want to take that as an omen of anything soon to come, for either of them.

 

After all, he couldn’t be true to himself in death until he actually knew who he was.

 

It took most of the day walking before they could finally began to see the signs of a city ahead; more open spaces, scattered homes in the hills, and the occasional dog barking as they passed through the trees. The outskirts of the city were near abandoned; cracked and uneven roads, small houses and trailers spread out, most with doghouses out back.

 

They hadn’t been walking in the city outskirts for long when Percival saw a police car up ahead, driving in their direction. Finally, some kind of authority figure; maybe now they would be safe, at least for a while. Surely the police would be able to figure out what was going on.

 

He waved the officer down, though he thought it odd when the police car pulled to a stop ten meters away or so and not right next to them; it was obvious they needed some help, with neither of them really dressed for the weather at all and both of them tired as hell, so there was no reason for the officer to keep his distance like that.

 

It only got even more confusing when the police officer opened his car door- and promptly hid behind it, using it as a shield as he pulled out his gun and pointed it at the pair.

 

“Down on your knees! Hands on the back of your head, both of you!”

 

Percival froze and could tell Newt did the same beside him, and they looked at each other in confusion.

 

“Wait, is he…talking to us?” Newt asked, completely baffled, but they were the only two people on this road. There was no one else the man could have been speaking to.

 

“I said get down! Now!” the police officer yelled again, and Percival really didn’t want to get shot today, so he reluctantly dropped down to his knees and laced his fingers behind his head. Newt did the same, taking his cue from Percival.

 

The police officer began to move toward them, slowly, his gun at the ready the whole time as he circled around behind Percival. “May I ask why we’re being held at gunpoint? We didn’t do anything,” Percival asked, knowing he was taking a bit of a risk- police officers didn’t like to be challenged.

 

“You’re under arrest. That’s all you need to know right now,” the officer snapped, and Percival heard him getting out his handcuffs, and that just wasn’t going to work for Percival.

 

He had no intention of going to jail for some unknown crime, and he wasn’t about to let Newt go, either. Newt, who was probably one of the kindest, most innocent people on this planet.

 

Never mind that he had a bear looking after him that was willing to brutally slaughter anyone who hurt him. That hadn’t technically been his fault.

 

Percival waited until the police officer grabbed his wrist, and then he grabbed onto the officer’s arm with his free hand and threw him forward. The officer flipped over him and landed on his back on the pavement, and Percival quickly gave him an elbow to the temple, knocking him out cold.

 

“Percival- he was a police officer-“ Newt stuttered in shock, his hands dropping from behind his head as he looked around in a panic, but Percival had already looked. The narrow street was deserted.

 

“Something isn’t right here, Newt. And I have no intention of sitting in a jail cell until I figure out what it is,” Percival said as he rolled the police officer over, handcuffed his hands behind his back, and then tossed the handcuff keys into the brush. That done, he dragged the police officer back to his own cruiser, shoved him into the backseat and closed the door behind him.

 

“Keep watch,” he said to Newt as he walked around the police car and slid into the driver’s seat. He wasn’t going to steal the car- he wasn’t stupid, thank you very much- but he was going to see if he could get a lead here.

 

Like most cop cars, this one had a laptop mounted between the two front seats. And sure enough, Percival’s and Newt’s photos were on the screen, along with some kind of bulletin. He scrolled down to get a better look at it.

 

_APB Issued_

_Two persons of interest, highly dangerous and believed to be armed; if apprehended, please contact your local FBI representative_

 

Below that was a physical description of both of them- and there went Percival’s hope that he could keep Newt out of this. Whatever was going on, Newt was now firmly entrenched in the middle of it, thanks to Percival. The guilt was like a heavy weight in his stomach as he looked at Newt’s passport photo and physical description listed on the same page as ‘highly dangerous’.

 

The only person Newt was ‘highly dangerous’ to was himself.

 

But he did glean one piece of brand new information from the bulletin, something he’d already suspected from a momentary flashback not long ago; his last name. Graves.

 

Percival Graves. It sounded so familiar, it had to be right.

 

He grabbed the cop’s sunglasses from his cup holder and put them on, just in case they were to run into anyone else who might recognize his face, and then he got out of the car, closed the car door, and went back to Newt to break the bad news.

 

“We need to get out of the open,” he said, taking Newt by the arm and leading him away. Newt did a double take.

 

“What about the policeman?”

 

“He’ll wake up eventually, and when he does, he’s going to make our lives very, very difficult.”

 

Newt frowned and took in a deep breath. “Why was he trying to arrest us?” he asked, and Percival sighed.

 

“Because we’re wanted.”

 

“For _what_?”

 

“Not sure,” Percival admitted, looking for any place that would work as a temporary shelter. “All I know is there’s an all-points bulletin in his car with our pictures, calling us ‘highly dangerous and armed’. And evidently the FBI are on our tail, too.”

 

Newt went pale; even paler than he already had been from the cold. “If my family hears about this, I’m dead,” he said, and Percival gave him a look, then laughed.

 

“You’re more worried about your family than the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”

 

“If you knew my parents, you’d understand.”

 

“From what you’ve already told me, I don’t give a single fuck what your parents think,” Percival pointed out with a scoff. Anyone who’d made Newt feel this bad about himself and what he did for a living didn’t deserve to call themselves parents in the first place.

 

“There. That’ll work,” he added as he saw an old, run down motel a bit down the road. “We’ll hunker down there until we decide what to do from here.”

 

Newt bit his lip. “We don’t have any money for a room,” he pointed out, and Percival smirked.

 

“We’re not going to pay.”

 

Percival led the way to a room around the corner and down at the end of the strip, well out of sight of the motel office, and with a glance back and forth for any signs of life he gave the door a firm kick. It was a crappy door to start with, so it easily broke and swung inward on the hinges, and Percival led the way inside into blessed heat.

 

“What if someone rents out the room?” Newt asked as he followed and shut the door behind them, and Percival laughed.

 

“It’s September in Alaska and this hotel screams ‘do lines off the toilet tank for thirty bucks a night’. I highly doubt we’re going to be interrupted,” he said as he flipped on the television and swapped it over to a news station.

 

Evidently the all points bulletin was limited to law enforcement, because there was nothing on the news about the two of them. That only made Percival more suspicious; normally if criminals were wanted that badly, their names and faces would be plastered all over the nightly news and the newspapers. But it seemed like that whatever federal agency wanted them caught, they wanted it done quietly.

 

Percival wouldn’t allow it, either way. If he was going down, either to his mystery pursuers or to the authorities, he wasn’t going down without a fight. He would clear Newt’s name if it took the rest of his life to do it; Newt didn’t deserve any of this.

 

But the only things on the news were about a bombing in the Middle East, a missing child in Juneau, a village up north dealing with some mystery illness, and a charity drive for the local animal shelter. Nothing about two ‘criminals’ on the run from the authorities.

 

“So what now?” Newt asked as he sat on the edge of the bed and stripped off his coat. “Ask Jacob to help us get to Seattle?”

 

Percival wanted to tell Newt that he needed to find someplace safe and stay there until all of this blew over. But they both knew the truth- nowhere was safe anymore. Not even Newt’s home away from home, his remote cabin, had been enough deterrence for these people.

 

“If Jacob helps us, he puts himself at risk of being charged for it. Aiding and abetting a criminal,” Percival pointed out. “Are you sure he would be okay with that? Are _you_ okay with that?”

 

Newt chewed on his lower lip nervously. “I’m not okay with it, but what other choice do we have?” he asked. “It’s not like it’s all over the news. He could claim ignorance and they would likely believe him. He could just say we asked him for a favor and he obliged.”

 

Well, it could work. Percival wasn’t sure what the chances were, and he hated to put Jacob in that kind of position in the first place- but Newt was right. They didn’t have much of a choice. They needed to get away from Anchorage as quickly as possible, and get to Seattle to follow the only lead they had.

 

“Let’s get a few hours of sleep,” he said. “We’ll go to Jacob’s while it’s still dark, and we’ll explain to him what’s going on. If he doesn’t want to get involved, we’ll figure something out. How far from here does he live?”

 

“A…twenty minute walk, maybe?”

 

Percival nodded and set the alarm clock for four in the morning. That way they would get plenty of sleep, but they would also be able to get up and get to Jacob’s while it was still safe to move under the cover of darkness. The less people that saw them, the better.

 

Newt crawled under the covers and Percival was more than happy to turn off the television, kick off his shoes, and join him. He pulled Newt in close, and Newt rested his head on Percival’s shoulder as he got comfortable.

 

Newt fell asleep quickly, but Percival had trouble. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he was wrong- what if he _was_ the bad guy? What if these people had a perfectly good excuse for hunting him down?

 

What if he wasn’t everything Newt had such faith in?

 

He stroked Newt’s hair with a feather light touch, trying to banish the thoughts and failing miserably. If he went through all of this only to find out that he deserved every bit of it- that he didn’t deserve Newt- he didn’t know what he would do. Everything he’d discovered about his old self felt like a different person from who he was now, even if the skills and instincts were still there.

 

Would it make a difference if he’d truly changed?

 

What if they found out something about him that was so horrific that even Newt couldn’t ever see him the same way again?

 

He couldn’t worry about it right now. There was nothing he could do; the fleeting snippets of memory hadn’t been enough to tell him who he truly was, and every time he reached for those memories, it was like grabbing at empty air, the images and words slipping through his fingers.

 

For now, he needed to concentrate on one thing- and that was keeping Newt safe. He’d gotten his lover into this mess, whether or not he’d meant to, and he fully intended to get Newt out of it unharmed and with a clean and clear record.

 

He glanced down at Newt, sleeping peacefully against him, and one thought came to the forefront of his mind; it was all worth it, even if he didn’t make it through this. It was worth it to have his last few months be with this man in his arms, to spend this time truly happy in a way that felt unfamiliar.

 

He would figure this out, and he would end it, one way or another. If not for himself, than for Newt.

 

 

 


	8. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Holy moly, Newt, I never would’ve guessed you had it in you! Gun fights, jumpin’ out of crashing helicopters, beatin’ up the police-“
> 
> “-well, to be fair, none of that was really-“
> 
> “And now I get to be in on it!” Jacob continued, as if Newt had never even tried to interject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a little slow compared to the others. However, remember how I compared this story to a roller coaster? Well, everything from the first action up until now has been those little hills that get your blood pumping on a coaster. From the next chapter on out, it's going to be nothing but hairpin turns and flips. So, enjoy the slowness, there won't be much more of it from here on out. Maybe a little. But not much. :P Those of you who say you like my action scenes are going to have a good time from here.
> 
> As usual, thank you to all reviewers and kudos-ers. Every time I get a notification at work it brightens up my day a ton, and this week I can really use the encouragement. <3
> 
> (Also, forgive any spelling errors or otherwise in this chapter. I've been sick since Saturday and today has been the worst so I am on so many kinds of drugs that I'm surprised I can use a keyboard. That's probably why this author's note is so long and rambling. Seriously, my brain is a fog.)
> 
> Next chapter might go up tomorrow night; if not, then Thursday night for sure!

Percival had become accustomed to waking up with the sunrise; not so much waking up to a shrill alarm hours before the sun’s light even started to reach across the sky, And if Newt’s reaction was any indication, he was much the same; the redhead burrowed deeper into the blankets and closer to Percival’s chest, his arm thrown across Percival’s waist.

 

“Come on,” Percival said, running his fingers through Newt’s hair, though not without a bit of amusement in his tone. “Time to get up. We need to get moving.”

 

Newt groaned, and Percival felt the grip on him tighten. He chuckled and kissed the top of Newt’s head.

 

“I promise you we’ll get a full night’s sleep soon. But not around here,” he said. After what happened last night, the police would be actively on the lookout for them; they needed to move in the dark, and be extra careful. They couldn’t afford to end up in some jail cell in Alaska right now, not with the mystery that was hanging over them.

 

He finally coaxed Newt into getting up and he gathered their few belongings and put them into the one backpack they had. With that done, he checked out the windows for any sign of life, police or otherwise, and saw no one.

 

“It’s clear. Let’s go,” he said, and he stepped out the door, Newt close behind him.

 

It was hard not to look conspicuous walking down an abandoned suburban street in Alaska at four in the morning. He knew there would be trouble if any cops passed them by, especially this close to where they’d left the unconscious policeman. So Newt pointed him in the right direction and Percival took the lead, instinctively taking them down the paths and alleys that would be least likely to get them seen. It felt like something he’d done before, many times- this sneaking around, this need to not be seen.

 

He wasn’t sure what that meant, and he wasn’t about to think too hard on it right now, either. He couldn’t afford to get distracted when they were in such a high risk situation.

 

Once they got closer to Jacob’s and farther away from the ‘scene of the crime’, so to speak, Percival let Newt take the lead, since he was familiar with this part of town. It was a bit more populated than the neighborhood they’d come from; the streets were lined with houses, most of them converted mobile homes or modular homes on cracked foundations, well lived in with children’s’ toys or swing sets in the front lawn. The dogs they passed were tied here, usually to a doghouse stuffed with straw or a dog bed.

 

Only half of the streetlights worked, giving the perfectly normal scene an eerie feel in the dead of the cold morning. The dim lights lit cracked pavement and rugged cars and trucks, the kind of vehicles that could survive up here in the extreme winter weather to come.

 

“What are we going to tell him?” Newt asked softly, as if trying to match the silence around them, and Percival snorted.

 

“I suppose we’ll just have to tell him the truth and see where that gets us,” he said. “He trusts you, or at least it looks that way. He may still be willing to help us despite the…odd circumstances.”

 

“I think ‘odd’ is putting it lightly. He’s probably going to think we’re trying to have a laugh at him.”

 

“Does he live with anyone?” Percival asked, suddenly worried that they would be dragging a spouse or child into the situation- but Newt shook his head.

 

“No. Aside from my dogs through the winter, he lives alone,” he explained and then he nodded ahead. “He’s right down here; that white house on the corner ahead, across the street.”

 

Newt started toward it but Percival grabbed him by the arm and tugged him behind the nearest car, resulting in a yelp and a glare from the surprised redhead. “What was that for?” he asked, and Percival shook his head and pointed in the direction of the house.

 

“Taker another look. Check out the cars on the street.”

 

Newt gave him an uncertain look, but then peered past the car they were hiding behind. Percival knew the moment Newt saw what he had; there was a dark car sitting in front of Jacob’s house, with two silhouettes inside.

 

“I should have known they might be watching him. He’s your only lifeline up here, after all,” Percival muttered as Newt dropped back behind the car with him.

 

“How did they know?” Newt asked, and he looked crushed; whether from having his friend dragged into this already or their pursuers being one step ahead, Percival wasn’t sure. Probably a mix of both.

 

“I imagine they know a lot more about us than we’d prefer by now. They’re getting a hell of a lot of information from somewhere,” Percival said as he took another glance. “So much for not getting Jacob involved if he doesn’t want to be. He’s officially involved, at least until we get out of Alaska.”

 

Newt still looked concerned, and Percival couldn’t blame him. That was one of his few friends in that house, and he likely had no idea of the mess he’d been dragged into. He probably had no idea he was being watched. “We need to get him out of there without them noticing,” Newt said, and Percival nodded in agreement.

 

“We need a distraction,” he said, more to himself than to Newt as he peeked out to study the street. He couldn’t use himself as a distraction, not when those men would immediately recognize his face, but there wasn’t a lot on the street that would work for what he needed. Just cars, a bit of trash, children’s toys…

 

“I think I have an idea,” he said, and then he looked to Newt. “Listen carefully; I want you to sneak your way over behind that blue pickup truck, as close to the house as you can get without getting into their line of sight. Does he have a back door?”

 

“Yes,” Newt said with a frown, and Percival nodded.

 

“Good. I’m going to cause a distraction, give you a window to run across the yard to the back of the house without being seen. I’m depending on you to get him to grab anything important and then come with you as quickly as possible, and then you can meet me by that grocery store we passed a couple of blocks back. Can you do that?”

 

“I…I think so? What about you, though?”

 

“I’ll be ready to cover for you if they notice you coming or going,” Percival said. “I’ll meet you by the grocery store, alright? Now go get into place. You’ll know when the time is right to run for it.”

 

Newt leaned forward and tugged Percival into a quick kiss. “Be careful,” he said, and then he was off, around the car and out of sight- once again putting all his trust into Percival’s idea without a moment of hesitation.

 

Percival took regular glances out from his hiding spot to make sure that Newt got to the blue pickup truck without being seen. It wasn’t a good spot for him to stay in for long, seeing that the men watching the house were parked right behind the pickup truck, but Newt got the idea; he ducked down in front of the grill of the truck to wait, and Percival breathed a sigh of relief before starting to move.

 

He stayed on the other side of the street from the car and Newt, making his way down until he was behind a car directly across from and one car length behind the car with the two men. He grabbed what had caught his attention earlier- a basketball in the front yard of the house he was beside- and then he ducked down behind the front tire of the car to wait.

 

It could have been a very long wait. As it turned out, though, luck was on their side this time; it wasn’t long before Percival saw headlights down the street, headed in their direction.

 

He didn’t like having to do this, but it was the only way to hold the men’s attention long enough for Newt to get Jacob and get out of there without being seen. Saying a silent apology to the poor commuter who was about to have their morning ruined, he waited until they were far too close to stop, and then he rolled the basketball into the road.

 

It was instinct for the driver to slam on the brakes and swerve; after all, it was only logic that would say that if a ball rolls into the road, a child is likely to follow it. And with the road being so narrow, in swerving to miss the basketball, the car hit the back of the car in which the two men sat.

 

Just a fender bender, but that was all it took. Percival made sure he was well out of sight; the two men got out of their car, and the second their attention was on the accident, Percival saw Newt make a break for the back of the house.

 

The two men didn’t see him. The hard part was over; now Percival would just stick around until he saw Jacob and Newt leave the back of the house before he made his way to their meeting point.

 

It was a tense wait. The driver of the car was arguing with the two men; he wanted to call the cops and get a police report done to avoid a lawsuit down the line, while the two men were adamant that there was no need for that, unsurprisingly enough. After all, how would they explain to the cops why they were sitting on a dark residential road that neither of them lived on? ‘Sorry, officer, we’re trying to track down this guy so we’re watching his boyfriend’s friend’s house just in case they come by here’?

 

Yeah, that would go over well. Percival smirked at the thought of it; he half hoped the commuter would win the little fight about calling the cops in to do a report.

 

It was a few minutes later that he saw Newt and Jacob leave the back of the house and head through the connecting backyards into the darkness of a nearby stand of trees; Percival breathed a sigh of relief and snuck away from the scene, leaving the men to their troubles. They would never know their mark left the house, let alone that their two ‘fugitives’ had been only feet away from them.

 

He met the pair in the darkness behind the grocery store, and Jacob was looking a bit panicked, understandably. “Why are there people watchin’ my house? What’s goin’ on here?” he was asking Newt as Percival approached, but Percival cut off any more questions.

 

“We can’t stay out in the open. Follow me,” he said, and he led the way just a few houses down the street to a house that was empty and for sale. He easily kicked the door in, just like he’d done with the motel room door, and he herded the two of them inside and shut the door behind them, jamming it closed with the back of a chair.

 

The house wasn’t heated, but it would at least keep them out of the wind and away from prying eyes for the moment. Percival couldn’t help but notice that Jacob had at least grabbed an extra coat for Newt, so they wouldn’t have to swap their one coat back and forth from now on.

 

“The answer to a lot of your questions is going to be ‘I don’t know’, I’m afraid,” Newt said to Jacob a bit sheepishly. “We don’t know who those men are. All we know is two men showed up at the cabin and held me at gunpoint, looking for Percival.”

 

“And you conveniently don’t remember anything about who they are or why they’re after you?” Jacob asked Percival, obviously angry that his friend had been put in danger over this; Percival couldn’t really hold that anger against him when he was mad at himself for very much the same thing.

 

“I wouldn’t put Newt in danger if I could help it,” he said, at least trying to make that clear. “I have no idea who these people are, but whoever they are, they have some powerful connections. They’ve got both me and Newt on the most wanted lists for law enforcement around here.”

 

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Jacob asked, and he looked to Newt only to get a helpless shrug in return.

 

“We got held at gunpoint earlier by a police officer. Felt bad for him, really-“

 

“Wait, wait,” Jacob said, and he held up his hands. “You two were the ones who knocked out that cop and stuck him in the back of his own cruiser? I saw that on the evenin’ news!”

 

Percival winced. “Did they show our pictures?”

 

“Nah, it was weird. They were bein’ all hush-hush about it. Only reason the news station knew was because they were listenin’ to the police scanner, but the police aren’t makin’ any comments,” Jacob said, and then he laughed. “Gotta give you props, though, that cop is an asshole. He gave me a parking ticket for parking the wrong way on the street for thirty seconds. I hate that guy. He deserved it.”

 

Percival shared a concerned and perplexed look with Newt; none of this was making much sense. They had these mystery men after them, and they also had the feds after them- but for some reason, neither group wanted any of it to be public knowledge.

 

It wasn’t a good sign. It reeked of something getting shoved under the rug.

 

“Jacob, we need your help,” Newt said softly, dragging Percival’s thoughts back to the present moment, and Jacob snorted.

 

“Don’t know what I can do, but you know I’ll help you with whatever you need, Newt,” he said, and then he shot a glance at Percival. “And since you’re so attached to this guy, I guess he’s included in that, too.”

 

“We need to get to Seattle, as quickly as possible.”

 

“Seattle? What’s in Seattle?” Jacob asked, and though the last thing Percival wanted to do right now was answer more pointless questions, he indulged the man. After all, they were the ones who’d dragged him into it, however unintentionally.

 

“A lead as to who it is that’s trying to hunt me down. The only lead we’ve got,” he said. “We don’t have anything to give you in return, and obviously you would be putting yourself at risk- neither of us will hold it against you if you would prefer to stay out of it.”

 

“Stay out of it? Are you kidding?” Jacob asked, and Percival blinked in surprise. The heavyset man just grinned. “This is the most exciting thing to happen to me since I got my grandmother’s strudel recipe right for the first time! Hell, I’ll help you get to Seattle. Not gonna be quick, though, not in a Cessna 182.”

 

“Any help you can give is more than enough,” Newt pointed out. “We’re a bit stranded here without your help.”

 

“And we don’t have any paperwork. No I.D.s, no money,” Percival pointed out. “So crossing borders is going to be…tricky.”

 

Jacob frowned at Newt. “I know you got a passport, what happened to it?” he asked, and Newt ducked his head a bit.

 

“I do believe it got left behind when he pushed me out of a helicopter yesterday.”

 

“He pushed you out of a…wait, that crashed helicopter up north, that was you two?” Jacob asked, eyes wide as saucers, and Newt and Percival shared a look that answered the question loud and clear. Jacob laughed so hard it turned into a coughing fit.

 

“Holy moly, Newt, I never would’ve guessed you had it in you! Gun fights, jumpin’ out of crashing helicopters, beatin’ up the police-“

 

“-well, to be fair, none of that was really-“

 

“And now I get to be in on it!” Jacob continued, as if Newt had never even tried to interject. “Alright, alright. Need to get you two to Seattle ASAP, no papers, no trail, no nothin’. Lucky for you, I got friends at the little air strips in Canada that owe me for transporting stuff for ‘em on the side. They’ll look the other way for me if I’m just passin’ through.”

 

“How long will it take?” Percival asked, eager to get going and say goodbye to Anchorage before they pushed their luck too far.

 

“Flyin’ straight through, about 18 hours. But I’ll need a break there in the middle to get some shuteye or I won’t be able to see my instruments straight,” Jacob explained.

 

“I imagine that the American border won’t be nearly as simple to slip by,” Newt pointed out, and Jacob nodded.

 

‘Yeah, can’t fudge my way through that one. But give me some time and I’ll think of something, I’m sure of it,” he insisted. “Now, we should probably get you two out of Anchorage before you blow anything else up or punch out any more cops.”

 

Newt grabbed onto Jacob’s arm gently, giving the man a serious look. “Jacob, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me- to _us_ \- and I know you’re risking a lot to help us,” he said softly. “I’m never going to be able to repay you for this.”

 

“Aw, it ain’t that big a deal,” Jacob said, patting Newt on the shoulder. “Like I said when I visited, if you happen to come across any hot ladies washed up and in need of some nursing back to health…”

 

“Unless your preferred type is ‘grizzly bear’, that’s unlikely to happen,” Newt joked with a smile, and Percival bit back a laugh.

 

“Come on. Let’s go before it gets too light outside,” he said. “Where is your plane at?”

 

“Not at Anchorage International, lucky for you. I’m parked at the little regional strip down the road; makes it easy to walk to work in the summer,” Jacob explained. “Ten minute walk and we’ll be home free.”

 

Percival breathed a sigh of relief; braving an international airport when so many people were after them would not be a smart move. “Good. Let’s go, then.”

 

He was right about it being a short walk. The sun was just beginning to rise when they reached the airport, and Jacob led them to the plane, a rather sizeable bush plane. “Stay here. I’ll go clear things with my guys in air traffic control,” he said, and then he left for the main building, which was nothing more than a low two story white building with a faded sign by the door.

 

Percival and Newt were left standing awkwardly beside the white plane, the wind cutting across the open space of the runways like a knife, and Percival guided Newt to the other side of the plane, where the plane itself would block the worst of the wind. “I’m glad he’s willing to give us a hand. Otherwise we would be hitchhiking to Seattle,” he said, and it was only half a joke, really. He wasn’t sure what else they could have done if Jacob decided that he didn’t want to get involved.

 

“I’m not sure he’s taking this quite as seriously as he should, but I’m glad he’s helping, too,” Newt said, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering. “I think he’s seeing it as more of an action movie than anything else.”

 

Percival reached out and pulled Newt in close, wrapping his arms around the redhead to warm him up. “Well, look at it this way,” he said softly. “In every action movie I can think of, the heroes win the day and the bad guys go to jail. Or die.”

 

Newt looked up at him with a smirk. “Are we the heroes, then?” he asked, and Percival snorted.

 

“Well…we’re not the bad guys, that’s for sure. Don’t think I’m as much hero material as you are.”

 

“Don’t be silly. You saved me from two men with guns.”

 

“And you have a pet bear that mauls people for you.”

 

Newt grimaced. “…this really is one of those cheesy American action films, isn’t it?”

 

“Hopefully with less explosions. I would really prefer to keep this a very quiet action movie,” Percival joked just as Jacob returned. Jacob gave the two of them a raised eyebrow, but didn’t say anything about their apparent closeness.

 

“Alright, we’re clear to take off,” he said, and he opened the door of the plane. There were four seats inside, one each for the pilot and co-pilot and two behind, and Percival and Newt climbed into the backseat. There wasn’t any wiggle room in this sort of plane; the roof was inches above their heads, Percival’s knees were just barely clear of the seat in front of him, and Newt’s arm was pressed closely to his on the shared center armrest.

 

“Can you fly this too?” Newt asked, and Percival glanced over the instrument panel and the controls up front.

 

“It looks familiar. I probably could if I had to, but I think I’ll leave it to the expert up there,” he said as Jacob climbed in, and Newt gave him a surprised look.

 

“I…was actually just kidding. You can really fly this?” he asked, and Percival laughed.

 

“Yeah, I think I could, but I’m definitely more familiar with the helicopters.”

 

Jacob handed two headsets back to them, and Percival slipped his on, adjusting it until it was comfortable; he knew that these small planes could be loud, and the helicopter had been bad enough. He and Newt stayed quiet through the take off; Percival was busy praying that those men had stayed none the wiser to Jacob’s escape, and that they would be halfway to Seattle before the men even knew they were gone.

 

The second the plane’s wheels lifted off the ground, Percival breathed a sigh of relief; they were getting out of Anchorage, at the very least. Everything else they could handle as they came to it.

 

“Have you thought of anything for the border crossing into Washington?” he asked Jacob over the headsets, and Jacob laughed.

 

“Yeah, I think I got somethin’, boss, but I’ll let you know when we get closer,” he said. “We’ll stop for gas a few hours in, go a few more, then stop for the night closer to the American border. I’ll get you guys fed and decked out with some clothes that don’t look like you’ve been crawling through the brush for a week. Sound good?”

 

Percival looked down at himself and Newt; sure enough, they both looked pretty rough. Bruised and scratched up, clothes dirtied and frayed; they definitely looked like they’d been through hell the past couple of days.

 

“That would be greatly appreciated,” Newt said, his voice tired. Percival reached over and wrapped his arm around Newt’s shoulders, tugging him in close until Newt was leaning on him; that was all the encouragement he needed to fall asleep not long after they reached altitude.

 

In the front seat, Jacob fiddled with the dial on the side of his headset, and then shot Percival a look. “Now listen here, Mr. Man of Mystery,” he said. “That there is the kindest, sweetest guy I know. He’d sell his soul to save a baby bunny. And while I’m really not happy that he got dragged into this, there ain’t much to do about it now.”

 

Percival snorted. “Believe me, if I’d had a choice, I would have kept him out of…whatever this is.”

 

“That’s all well and good, but now he’s in it, so I’m gonna say what I’m gonna say and then we’ll call it square; anything happens to him, I’m gonna take it out of your hide. We clear?”

 

“Crystal,” Percival said, tightening his grip on Newt the slightest bit. If anything happened to Newt because of this, Jacob likely wouldn’t be able to hold a candle to the self-hatred that Percival would have for it, so he was hardly worried about the modified ‘shovel talk’.

 

“Good,” Jacob said, turning his attention back to the controls. “Right then, enjoy the flight. We’ll be on American soil before you know it.”


	9. Stunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What in Heaven’s name are you doing back here, Graves?” his assailant hissed, her voice near panicked. “Do you have a death wish?”
> 
> Percival laughed. “You tell me, lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rather pleased with this chapter, actually. Still sick and on lots of medications, so that might be part of it, but I'm still pleased. It was fun to write.
> 
> I work a ton the next two days, so the next chapter will probably go up on Sunday evening. Thanks as usual for all the wonderful reviews and kudos!

By the time the flight was nearly over, Percival was more than ready to be out of that plane.

 

The stopover in a small town in Canada had been nice; they could relax a little, fairly certain they hadn’t been followed. An actual full meal out at a restaurant, a stop to pick up some actual clothes and toiletries, and Percival felt almost human again after days on the run in the wilderness.

 

But being cooped up in a tiny plane was still far from enjoyable. He wasn’t sure how Jacob did this all the time. It wasn’t anything like a helicopter; the windows were smaller, and they were up too high to get the same kind of amazing, dynamic views that Percival preferred.

 

“Eisenberg Ground, Cessna three zero eight zero Delta, ten miles north, request for emergency landing, over,” Jacob suddenly said into the headset, which needless to say made both Newt and Percival immediately start to pay attention. Percival looked over the front seat at the instrument panel, but he didn’t see anything that would cause alarm.

 

“Three zero eight zero Delta, this is Eisenberg Ground, what’s your emergency, over,” the radio call came back, and Jacob shot the pair of them a grin.

 

“Eisenberg, I’ve got full instrument failure up here. Requesting active runway for visual only landing, over.”

 

There was a short pause; Percival wanted to know what the hell Jacob was up to, because the instrument panel was obviously fully functional. Newt gave Percival a worried look, but Percival just shook his head. They would have to wait until Jacob got off the frequency with the airport.

 

“Eight zero Delta, you are clear for landing on runway Bravo two, over.”

 

“Roger that, Eisenberg. Over,” Jacob said, and then he fiddled with his headset a bit and grinned over his shoulder at Percival and Newt. “Alright, guys, you ready to move?”

 

“What’s with the mayday?” Percival asked, and Jacob just looked _smug_.

 

“See, I was supposed to land at Seattle International, where all those pesky border agents would want us to go through customs. But hey, if I have instrument trouble and have to land at little A.J. Eisenberg airport instead, well- no big fancy customs gateway there. In fact, the runways are surrounded by trees, mostly, and it’ll take a hot minute for them to get out there and check the plane if I have to do a short landing…”

 

“Jacob, you’re a genius,” Newt said with a bright smile, and Percival had to admit, that was rather clever.

 

“I know,” Jacob said. “When we touch down, grab your bags and take off. I’ll handle the official stuff. I put a few extra dollars in your bag, Newt, just in case you guys need to crash at a hotel or something.”

 

“I will never be able to repay you for this.”

 

“Nah, but you can try. I accept cash, credit, and blind dates with nice looking ladies, among other things.”

 

Percival rolled his eyes, but really, he was a little bit stunned as to just how eagerly Jacob had been willing to help them out. He wondered if he’d had any friends like that, before- friends who might be worried about him now. Looking for him, maybe.

 

He could only hope he would be able to tell friend from foe without his memories to lean on.

 

“Alright you two, hold on. I’m gonna bring her in kinda bumpy, for effect, you know?” Jacob said, and Percival shook his head- maybe Jacob was getting a hair too much into this. And Newt didn’t look thrilled about the idea of a purposefully bumpy landing, especially after his last experience with aircraft.

 

But Jacob did indeed get them on the ground safely, and as soon as they came to a stop he got Newt and Percival out the side of the plane away from the low buildings a good distance away. Percival made for the trees, Newt right on his heels, and only stopped to survey the situation once they were well out of sight.

 

“Well, that went better than I’d feared,” Newt said, hiking the bag higher on his shoulders. “How far are we from the city proper?”

 

Percival tried to remember; he felt like he’d been in Seattle before, recently, which meant he’d probably passed through here on his original trip up to Alaska. “Far enough that we’ll want to hitchhike to make good time,” he said, and Newt gave him an uncertain look.

 

“Isn’t that how people end up meeting serial killers here in America?”

 

“Newt, we’ve fought off four guys with guns and stolen a helicopter. If anything, the serial killers should be worried about picking _us_ up.”

 

“…Fair point.”

 

As it turned out, Percival might have preferred the serial killer. When they finally got someone along the highway to give them a lift to the city, it ended up being in a minivan with an older couple named Garth and Meredith who had the thickest Minnesota accents Percival had ever heard. Half the time he had to provide a translation for poor Newt, who was left wondering if they were actually speaking English in much of their slang-laden phrasing.

 

But luckily for Percival, Meredith was just enamored with Newt’s accent, so he ended up doing a lot of the talking. She even handed him a brochure on Mt. Rainier and asked him to read it aloud; he was too kind to say no, though he did glare daggers at Percival for barely holding back laughter as he did it.

 

By the time the minivan pulled to a stop in downtown Seattle, they’d acquired a whole new vocabulary, and Newt had been the recipient of a proper lecture about how ‘them Brits can’t just call soccer ‘football’ because that name’s already taken, don’t cha know?’

 

But the streets of downtown Seattle were no less quiet. It was the cacophony that Percival was certain he’d left behind for Alaska. It all felt familiar; the smell of exhaust and rubbish, the honks of cars and the ringing of cell phones, the way that nothing ever seemed to stop moving. Newt, meanwhile, looked a little overwhelmed, and Percival couldn’t blame him. The man spent much of his time in self-imposed isolation, so to be thrown back into the rush of a city had to be disorienting.

 

“Come on. They said the hotel is just around the corner and two blocks down,” Percival said, and he took Newt by the hand to lead him down the street. Newt seemed surprised at first, possibly expecting Percival to be a bit more conservative around others, but it only took a second before he tightened his grip on Percival’s hand as if it were an anchor amidst the rushing tide of people.

 

“What are we going to do when we get there?” Newt asked, and Percival thought for a moment.

 

“Stake it out. Just watch for a bit. See if any memories come up.”

 

It wasn’t a great plan, but it was all he had to go on right now. He wasn’t remembering anything yet, and the façade of the hotel didn’t seem to kick start any memories, either; Percival pulled Newt into the outdoor seating for a café across the street, where he appeased the annoyed waiter by ordering tea for the two of them.

 

“Remembering anything yet?” Newt asked softly, and Percival shook his head.

 

“Not a thing.”

 

“Well, I didn’t imagine it would be easy. Most of the memories you’ve had come when you’re not trying, you know,” Newt said, his shoulders slumped a bit and his head ducked. He seemed to change around other people; he seemed to shrink into himself in a way that was entirely different than the innate confidence he had when he was out in the field. It was almost like a different person entirely.

 

Percival could safely say he’d never met anyone who was more confident and secure around a grizzly bear than another human being. He didn’t need his memories to know that Newt was absolutely one of a kind.

 

Percival suddenly caught sight of something- no, someone- standing near the entrance of the hotel. She was wearing a long coat and a low hat over short hair, her clothes a cloak of greys and whites, and her dark eyes flitted over to meet Percival’s. She held his gaze for a few moments, then pointedly turned and walked into the alley on the other side of the hotel.

 

“…Come on,” Percival said, deciding it was too much of a coincidence to leave alone. He grabbed Newt’s hand once again and pulled him out of his chair and along with him, following the woman’s path.

 

The alley was empty when he reached it. He immediately put one hand on the gun at his waist, keeping Newt behind him as he led the way down the narrow alley, the sounds of the city muffled by the tall buildings on either side of them.

 

Then, a hand came out of a doorway to their left, grabbed onto Percival’s arm, and swung him to pin him face first against the brick building. He tried to get at his weapon, but the person grabbed that hand too and expertly wrenched it behind him- and then he heard a shout of surprise and a thud.

 

Evidently Newt had tried to help, and ended up on his ass in the alley for his troubles.

 

“What in Heaven’s name are you doing back here, Graves?” his assailant hissed, her voice near panicked. “Do you have a death wish?”

 

Percival laughed. “You tell me, lady.”

 

“Lady?” the woman repeated incredulously, and then she let go of him and stepped back. When he turned to face her, he hesitated and narrowed his eyes; she looked familiar.

 

“I…know you, don’t I?” he asked as he helped Newt to his feet. The woman stared at him in what looked to be an equal mix of shock and irritation.

 

“What the hell are you playing at? This isn’t a joke, you could be killed for coming back here!” she snapped, and then she looked at Newt. “And who is this, anyway? Since when did you drag civilians into things? What happened to the ‘golden rule’ of ‘no civvies in the ops’?”

 

“Whoa, wait. Hold on just a smidge. There’s a misunderstanding here,” Newt said, holding up his hands. “He has amnesia.”

 

The woman just looked between the two of them for a few long moments as if waiting for the punch line of the joke. When it didn’t come, she looked dismayed. “What? Wait…you’re serious? You don’t remember anything?” she asked, and Percival shook his head.

 

“Newt found me half dead in Alaska. This ‘civilian’ saved my life,” he said. “All I know is that some guys attacked our cabin, and one of them had a business card for this hotel. It’s all I had to go on.”

 

She sighed heavily. “I am not paid nearly enough to deal with this shit,” she said, and then she glanced both ways down the alley. “Come on. We can’t stick around here. Let’s find someplace safe to talk.”

 

It was a risk going along with her, but somehow, Percival knew he could trust her. It was just a gut feeling he had, and right now his gut was all he had to go on. He nodded to Newt, and they followed her down the alley and onto a side street. She was silent as they walked, her back straight, her head held high, and her footsteps quick; she was also obviously well aware of their surroundings, keeping an eye out as they made their way to a small café.

 

The three of them sat down at a table by the window and ordered drinks that they probably wouldn’t touch, and then the woman sighed and took off her hat, setting it on the table. “Where do I even start?” she said, more to herself than to them.

 

“Well, your name would be nice, for one,” Newt pointed out, and she barked out a short laugh.

 

“Tina Goldstein,” she said. “God, it feels weird introducing myself to my boss.”

 

“I was your boss?” Percival asked, and she nodded.

 

“Percival, you’re the Director of Operations for the Clandestine Service Department of the Central Intelligence Agency.”

 

_-“Director Graves, sir-“_

_“Goldstein, you don’t have to use my title every time you speak with me.”_

_“Of course, Mr. Graves, sir. It’s just that-“_

_“Drop the sir, too. What is this, the military?”-_

 

“I remember,” Percival said, blinking as the memory faded as quickly as it had come. “Sort of. The memories are…so short. Like snippets.”

 

“So you’re saying I found a _CIA agent_ half dead in the middle of Alaska?” Newt asked with a confused frown. “What’s the CIA even doing up there?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m just an Operations Officer; whatever trip you were on with Grindelwald was above my pay grade,” Tina said, and Percival knew that name, from one of his memories.

 

“Who’s Grindelwald?” he asked her, and she snorted.

 

“That would be _your_ boss. Gellert Grindelwald, Director of the Clandestine Service Department, right hand man to Seraphina Picquery, Director of the CIA.”

 

Everything was starting to click into place. Words, names, titles, all of it fit like pieces to a puzzle that had been lost till now. “He was with me in the helicopter. Before…whatever happened,” Percival said softly, and Tina nodded.

 

“Yeah. Whatever happened, which Grindelwald says involved you trying to kill him and then defecting to the Russians with all the information you have.”

 

Percival’s head snapped up. “What?”

 

“That’s the story,” Tina said, and she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Grindelwald said that he found you out on the trip. Confronted you. He said you tried to kill him and then fled, that the Russians must have offered you a hell of a lot of money to turn traitor.”

 

“He wouldn’t,” Newt said, even more certain than Percival himself, and Tina chuckled.

 

“Yeah, I know. That’s what I said. Everyone else took Grindelwald at his word, but I knew something wasn’t right there. You were never in this job for the money; you were in it for doing what’s _right_. That’s one reason I decided to follow your trail, see what I could find,” she said. “Of all the people to accuse of treason, you would be the very last on anyone’s list. But…Grindelwald has a lot of pull, and with the way you just disappeared…”

 

“It doesn’t look good,” Percival finished. Of course if he vanished and Grindelwald was there with an explanation, other people would fall in line with it. “So that’s why I’ve had people trying to catch me.”

 

“Not catch. _Kill_ ,” Tina said, looking down at the table. “They don’t care if you’re brought in alive or dead, Percival, and you’re too dangerous for them to take chances.”

 

Well, that complicated things. Percival suddenly felt even worse for dragging Newt into this mess; if they were just out to kill Percival, they wouldn’t hesitate to take out anyone who happened to be with him. “I’m sorry, Newt,” he said, and Newt reached across the table to grip his hand gently.

 

“I knew I was getting into a bit of a mess the first time they held a gun at me. I’m not getting cold feet now,” he said, and Tina looked between the two of them again and down at their entwined hands before the light went on.

 

“…Okay, wait, are you serious? Who even is this guy, Percival?” she asked, and before Percival could snap at her, Newt answered in a much calmer fashion.

 

“Newt Scamander. I’m a zoologist,” he said, and Tina just stared for a few long moments, her jaw hanging open.

 

“Are you kidding, Percival?” she finally said, and Percival shot her a glare.

 

“This man saved my life. He spent weeks nursing me back to health,” he said sharply. “He’s stuck with me through all of this insanity.”

 

“And he’ll _die_ if he sticks around. I thought he might be some agent from another department or something when I heard another name on the APB with you, but he’s actually a damn civilian? Do you know what kind of danger you’ve put him in?”

 

“I’m well aware, considering what we’ve gone through to get here,” Percival said, his tone a challenge. “And if I drop him off somewhere, he’s in just as much danger without my protection. I’ve dragged him into it, yes, but I’m getting him out of it alive. No matter what.”

 

She didn’t seem very happy about the idea, but she sighed and just shook her head. “Fine. Fine, we’ll deal with that later. But there’s still the matter of your memory loss being quite possibly the worse thing that could have happened right now. Even worse than you know.”

 

“How so?” Newt asked, his brow furrowed with concern, and Tina took a quick look around before speaking again.

 

“You said you had something you needed to tell me after the trip. Something really important- and you couldn’t say it anywhere that might be monitored. Which means it’s a big deal,” she said. “It could be the key to unraveling this whole ‘treason’ business, but we won’t know until you remember. _If_ you remember.”

 

Percival sighed and ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair in frustration. “I haven’t been able to remember anything by trying to,” he admitted. “It comes to me in flashes. Usually when I hear or see something, or even smell something…it’s not predictable.”

 

“And I imagine going to places that might trigger that sort of thing isn’t a good idea for self preservation,” Newt pointed out, staring down at his tea as he gently rubbed his thumb across the back of Percival’s knuckles. The gesture helped, giving Percival some measure of grounding and comfort.

 

At least until there was a loud _bang_ , and the window of the café shattered, followed by the glass of tea sitting in front of Newt.

 

Luckily, whatever instincts Percival had honed over the years were still perfectly intact. He was up and moving in a moment, taking Newt’s hand and dragging him along through the café toward the back. Tina was right behind them, taking advantage of the path Percival made through panicked customers and toppled furniture.

 

Percival ran them through the kitchen and out the back door into an alley, but he didn’t stop to see if they were going to be followed; he knew they would be. He made for the side road and went for the first car he saw, a low slung black Lotus.

 

“W-Wait, that’s not ours-“ Newt said, as if Percival didn’t know that already. He opened the driver’s side door and yanked the seat forward, gesturing to Newt.

 

“In, now,” he said, leaving no room for argument. Newt didn’t look happy about it, but he got in the car, followed by Tina in the passenger seat and Percival in the driver’s seat. Percival already had his hand out when Tina pressed a small black box into it, and Percival snapped out the metal end of it and shoved it into the ignition.

 

The light flashed red, red, red, and then green; he turned it, and the car started right up.

 

“Glad to see you haven’t lost the important memories, like how to use a bypass module to steal a car,” Tina pointed out with an almost amused tone, and Percival chuckled.

 

“Figured out I can fly a helicopter, too.”

 

Two more gunshots rang out, and Percival punched the gas, sending the car careening into traffic, ignoring the honks and screeching tires of other commuters. Percival could hear police sirens in the distance; they had to get away from the scene of the shooting and lose their pursuers before the cops caught on to what was going on.

 

Percival weaved in and out of traffic at double the speed of the cars around him, and it was only moments before a black car fell into pursuit behind them. “Keep your head down, Newt,” he called out, looking for any way to lose the people chasing them down.

 

“Head south,” Tina said. “If we can shake them, I have a hotel room on the south side that we can hunker down in for a while.”

 

“South. Got it,” Percival said, and he spun the wheel so fast the car drifted through the turn, resulting in a thud from the backseat when Newt had to catch himself against one of the doors. “Might want to buckle in.”

 

“You don’t say?” Newt replied, his words nearly dripping sarcasm.

 

But they hadn’t lost the car yet. They were coming up on an entrance ramp to the interstate, but it was three lanes away, and there was a semi in the left lane between them and the ramp.

 

A rather high semi with a spare tire that hung well out of the way in the front.

 

“Alright, you two, hold on. We’re taking this exit,” Percival said, and there was a beat of silence as Tina and Newt both simultaneously realized just what he meant to do.

 

“Oh, not again,” Tina muttered, sinking down in her seat a bit. Newt was hardly so complacent though.

 

“Percival, _don’t you dare_ ,” he said, his voice a tad panicked. “The helicopter was one thing, but I am not dying in a fiery crash because you felt the need to-“

 

He didn’t get a chance to finish. Percival saw his chance, hit the gas, jerked the wheel, and neatly crossed two lanes and passed cleanly underneath the semi and right onto the entrance ramp to the interstate.

 

Their pursuers tried to follow, slamming on the brakes and trying to get on the ramp late- but there was only the squeal of tires and a crunch of metal as they collided with two others cars and were spun to a stop.

 

“ _Never again_ ,” Newt said breathlessly. “Absolutely never again are you allowed to complain about the dangers of _grizzly bears_ , Percival Graves, I swear-“

 

Tina laughed. “Oh, bears are nothing compared to Graves on the warpath. This is _nothing_ ,” she said, and Percival had the feeling she was right, judging by the fact that he felt completely at ease with the adrenaline rush he was riding right now.

 

“Sorry, Newt. I’ll give you more warning next time,” he said, and there was a sputter from the back seat.

 

“Next time!” Newt said with exasperation. “Let’s put that on the schedule for next week then, right? Steal a sports car, drive underneath a moving lorry, cause a pileup on the highway, you know, the usual.”

 

Percival couldn’t help but laugh, and when he caught Newt’s eye in the rearview mirror, the redhead just smiled with relief and shook his head. Tina turned her head to eye Newt for a few moments before she looked to Percival again.

 

“Well, he handled all of that pretty well, for a civvy,” she said, and Percival smirked.

 

“He does hug bears for a living.”

 

“It was _one bear_ ,” Newt protested, and Tina raised an eyebrow.

 

“Do I want to know...?”

 

“No, probably not,” Percival said, and he pulled off the interstate a couple of exits down and got back onto side streets, where they would be more difficult to find and track. “Let’s get to that hotel and start brainstorming. We can’t afford to sit around and wait for me to remember things anymore, and we can’t keep running from this.”

 

“Whatever it is you had to tell me better be worth it, boss. My neck is on the line now too,” Tina pointed out, and Percival took in a deep breath.

 

“Did you trust me then, Tina?”

 

“Of course. And I still do, even if you’ve developed…strange taste in company.”

 

“Then whatever it is I had to tell you, it’s worth finding out,” Percival said. “Let’s just hope it’s enough to get us out of this mess in one piece.”


	10. Felony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Leave him out of this,” he snapped. “He’s done nothing wrong and you know it.”
> 
> Grindelwald’s smirk widened. “You give yourself away too easily, Percival,” he said, and then he looked to one of his men and nodded toward Newt. “Shoot him in the knee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I wish I had a better excuse but I just got hormonal and spent half my day marathoning Les Miserables and sobbing into a very disgruntled Chihuahua. Probably from the tail end of being sick.
> 
> I'm going to try and get the next chapter up Tuesday night, though. <3

Once they reached Tina’s hotel room, it was much easier to take a few deep breaths and decide what to do- not that it made the decision itself any easier.

 

“We need to go back to someplace that will trigger my memories,” Percival said as they settled into the room. He watched as Tina spread coins on the edge of the window and empty soda cans by the door- both alarms to make noise if someone tried to get in.

 

“That would be a death sentence,” Tina pointed out firmly. “You lived and worked in Washington D.C., quite possibly the most monitored, secure city in the world, and the people we’re up against have access to every ounce of that security. We’d be found in _hours_ , Percival. Probably minutes.”

 

“What else can we possibly do?” Percival asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Keep running? Keep trying to hide? This isn’t going to go away until we figure out why I ended up where I did, and why Grindelwald is lying about it.”

 

 _If he’s lying about it_ , Percival’s brain supplied unhelpfully. Tina and Newt had such faith in him- but what if what Grindelwald said had truth to it? What if Percival had betrayed them?

 

But if that were true, why would Grindelwald lie about Percival having run away? After all, there had obviously been an argument in that helicopter that ended with Percival on the brink of death.

 

No, if Grindelwald had lied about that, then no part of his story could be depended on as truth.

 

“We have to at least try,” Newt said from where he stood leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and head bowed in thought. “Whatever you had to tell her was obviously important. It could be a matter of life and death for more than the three of us.”

 

Tina shook her head and pointed at Newt. “No. Hell no. If we do this, we’re not dragging a civilian along who doesn’t have any idea what he’s getting into or how to defend himself,” she snapped, and for the first time, Percival saw actual anger flicker across Newt’s features as he raised his head.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall you being given the final say over where I go and what I do,” he said, his voice tense. Percival could tell Tina was about to snap back at him, and he held up his hands.

 

“Whoa, stop,” he said, and he gave both of them a look. “Tina, if we leave him here, they _will_ find him. As much as I would love to leave him safe and uninvolved, that’s not an option anymore. He has to come with us.”

 

Tina sighed heavily and looked between the two of them, and then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine. Have it your way,” she said, and she flipped on the television. “Let’s at least make sure our little shooting and high speed pursuit didn’t put us on every single network.”

 

Sure enough, the shooting and high-speed chase was all over the news- but luckily for them, no one had seen their faces, and they’d dumped the distinctive car over a mile away. Right now the whole thing was being attributed to gang activity, which was pretty funny, given that it was all government agents involved. Well, and one zoologist.

 

No pictures of them on the news. Just stories about the missing child in Juneau having been found safe, the town in northern Alaska still fighting some mystery illness, and a new conflict about an oil pipeline planned for Oregon. Nothing that could point to them.

 

“So what kind of security are we talking about?” Percival asked once they were convinced none of them would be recognized by the general public, and Tina sat down on the end of the second bed.

 

“The biggest problem will be facial recognition,” she said. “The CIA has access to all public camera feeds in the city, and its constantly running facial recognition scans for the biggest fugitives; that, right now, will include the three of us.”

 

“So we need disguises.”

 

“Once we get there. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to drive cross country with these people on our tail, so we need to fly.”

 

“Jacob will likely be tied up in paperwork for a while,” Newt said softly. “But we’ve got no IDs, no passports; even if we did we couldn’t use them.”

 

“I can fix that,” Tina said, and then she pulled out her cell phone and dialed. It was only a few moments before whomever she called picked up the line. “Hey, Queenie. Can I ask you about that casserole recipe?”

 

There was a pause, and then Tina’s shoulders relaxed. Percival didn’t take long to realize that the question must be a code- asking this ‘Queenie’ person if the line was secure.

 

“I need you to do me a huge favor,” Tina continued, all the ‘conversational tone’ falling out of her voice. “I’m in Seattle, in the Days Inn on Heron Street, room 141. I need three full sets of fake identification- one for myself, one for Percival- I know, I know, don’t ask, I’ll explain later- and one for the civvy who’s on the APB with Percival. Have them leave it by the door, knock twice, and leave. And we need a safe house in D.C. starting tonight.”

 

Newt gave Percival a curious look. “It’s that easy?” he asked, and Percival chuckled.

 

“When you know the right people, yes,” he said as Tina finished up her phone call.

 

“Queenie will get us the paperwork we need in a few hours, tops,” she said as she stood up. “In the meantime, I’m going out to get us some disguises for the airport. That should at least slow the facial recognition.”

 

“Be careful,” Percival told her, and she gave him a look.

 

“I’m always careful. You’re the one who does the death defying stunts,” she pointed out, and then she grabbed her bag and was gone.

 

“She seems far too eager to dump me by the side of the road on your way out of town,” Newt joked, though the words came out a little strained. Percival sighed and stood up, then went over to Newt and pulled him in close.

 

“She mistakenly thinks you’d be safer if we left you behind,” he pointed out, settling his hands on Newt’s hips. “But she’s not the one making the calls. And I won’t be leaving you behind, that’s for damn sure.”

 

It was a promise Percival would readily make; he didn’t plan on letting Newt out of his sight until he was sure the zoologist would be safe.

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

As it turned out, Tina’s paranoia could have waited until they actually landed in Washington D.C..

 

She had obviously tried to plan for everything. They had their false paperwork- passports, driver’s licenses, CIA identification and badges, even credit cards under different names if they needed them- and she had them each accessorized in a way that would scramble any attempts by facial recognition software. She wore a wig with long bangs, Percival kept on a dark hat, and Newt was set up with a pair of Clark Kent style glasses; the facial recognition software mostly depended on accurate measurements of the area around the eyes, so anything that obscured or hid that area was usually enough to avoid tripping the alarms.

 

And they seemed to avoid it well enough, up until they arrived at their destination.

 

It wasn’t until then, as they made their way from the terminal toward the exit that Percival noticed that they were being watched. No, not just watched; followed. He was sure of it. He didn’t want to alarm Newt, though, who undoubtedly didn’t have the instincts to pretend as if he didn’t know he was being observed. Percival waited until they were walking past a family with three loud children before he leaned toward Tina just a bit.

 

“Two on our six,” he said, and she nodded once.

 

“Noticed. What’s the plan?” she asked, casting a look at Newt, who was busy apologizing to the little girl who’d just barged into his legs.

 

“I think causing a scene is our best bet. If they get us alone, there’ll be trouble.”

 

Tina shook her head, though she looked amused. “Of course your answer is to cause a scene in the middle of an airport. So, what kind of scene?”

 

“What other kind of scene when you’re being chased?” Percival asked with a smirk, just as Newt turned his attention back to them. Percival took him by the elbow firmly and got ready to move. “ _Run_.”

 

Newt didn’t even have the opportunity to finish the word ‘why’ before Tina and Percival took off at a sprint, and with Percival’s hand locked on his elbow, Newt was forced to get up to speed rather quickly. Percival glanced behind them to see their two pursuers break into a run, which was exactly what he wanted them to do.

 

Now if they pulled anything drastic, there would be lots and lots of witnesses- exactly what their pursuers didn’t want.

 

But that didn’t change the fact that they had to lose the people chasing them. People had to practically dive out of the way as the three of them came running through, and Percival toppled furniture along the way when he could- a suitcase here, a café chair there, anything to slow down the people chasing them.

 

“Where are we running to?” Tina hissed, and Percival looked at the signs, looking for anything that would present a good getaway.

 

“Parking garage,” he said. Plenty of places to hide- and plenty of cars to grab to make a run for it faster than on foot.

 

Up ahead, someone was pushing a luggage cart right in the way, and Percival shot a look at Newt. “You ready?” he asked, and Newt nodded; they both vaulted over the cart, turned, and then shoved it over, spilling luggage down the hallway before they turned to run again.

 

That was when the first shot rang out, and things got very hectic, very fast. Percival almost couldn’t believe that the idiots would pull weapons and fire in a busy airport.

 

A second shot split the air, and Newt shouted and stumbled; Percival had to resist the urge to stop and check on him. He was still on his feet and running, though his expression was pained; as long as he was still moving, they couldn’t afford to pause.

 

“Down there!” Tina said, nodding toward the dual escalators ahead that led to the parking garage exit. It was complete insanity in the terminal; civilians were screaming and scattering in every direction from the gunshots, and Percival could hear sirens in the distance.

 

They needed to get out. Now.

 

Percival took the escalator down two steps at a time, and Newt nearly fell trying to keep up, Percival’s hand on his arm being the only thing to keep him upright. Tina shoved through the glass door and held it for them, and they rushed into the dark, stifled parking garage- only to skid to a halt.

 

Four men stood in front of them, three of them armed and ready to shoot, and one immediately made memories come rushing back to Percival like an ocean wave crashing over him.

 

_-“This is criminal, Grindelwald. I can’t be a part of this. I won’t.”_

_“You don’t have a choice, Percival; you fall in line, or you will be in a world of trouble.”_

_“I will take this to Picquery. I will take this to the god damn President if I have to.”_

_“You won’t take it anywhere if you’re not alive to do it.”-_

 

“Grindelwald,” Percival growled out, and the blonde man in the center smirked, smoothing his hands down his impeccable suit.

 

“Percival,” Grindelwald replied, his voice slick and venomous. “I must say that I’m shocked to see you back here, after what you did.”

 

The doors burst open behind them, and the two men who’d been chasing them emerged; they were outnumbered by double, and unarmed. They couldn’t afford to risk trying to get weapons on the flight.

 

“The murder attempt didn’t stick,” Percival said, unfazed by Grindelwald’s accusations. Grindelwald snorted, and then turned his attention to Tina.

 

“I’m surprised at you, Goldstein. You have such potential, and here you are, consorting with those who would commit treason?” he asked, but Tina stood firm, her chin held high.

 

“He did no such thing and you know it.”

 

“I see he’s pulled the wool over your eyes. I will give you one last chance, though, to make things right,” Grindelwald said. “Apprehend him, denounce him, and you can keep your life and your job.”

 

Tina sneered. “Go to hell, Grindelwald.”

 

Grindelwald didn’t look surprised in the least. His attention fell on Newt, who was standing a couple of steps behind and to the left of Percival- and Percival noticed that his jaw was clenched and he was clutching his left arm, the sleeve and his right hand slick and shining with blood. He had to fight down the rage and the need to tend to him for now- if it had been a bad hit, he never would have made it this far. The bullet must have just grazed him.

 

“My men tell me that you’ve developed quite the attachment to this…unfortunate civilian,” Grindelwald pointed out with a look that bordered on amused. “I encourage you to cooperate, Percival. It would be a shame if anything were to happen to him. You’ve already got him bleeding, thanks to your escape attempts.”

 

“Stop using me as a threat,” Newt snapped before Percival could even respond. “I won’t let you use me as leverage over him.”

 

Grindelwald’s eyebrows both rose, and then he laughed. “Oh, the bitch has claws,” he said, and Percival’s hands tightened into fists.

 

“Leave him out of this,” he snapped. “He’s done nothing wrong and you know it.”

 

Grindelwald’s smirk widened. “You give yourself away too easily, Percival,” he said, and then he looked to one of his men and nodded toward Newt. “Shoot him in the knee.”

 

No one got a chance to move, though, before the doors opened behind them once again and airport security came flooding out. Percival took advantage of the distraction, grabbed Newt by his uninjured arm, and _ran_.

 

The sounds of gunshots were almost unbearably loud in the cramped parking garage, making Percival wince as he pulled Newt along into a row of cars, Tina not far behind them. They needed a getaway vehicle, needed to put space between themselves and this airport as quickly as they possibly could.

 

“Queenie texted me the address of the safe house,” Tina said as they ran, just loud enough for just Percival and Newt to hear. “We need to shake these guys and get there.”

 

“If we grab a car, they’ll just follow,” Percival said, wracking his mind for an answer, anything that they could do to lose their pursuers.

 

Then, he saw the cop cars gathered outside the airport, and he had an idea.

 

“Tina, can you scramble the GPS signal in a cop car?” he asked, knowing that those cars were always being tracked.

 

“Yeah, easy,” Tina said, and Newt shot Percival a dismayed look.

 

“We’re going to steal a _police car_?”

 

“Borrow. We’re going to borrow a police car,” Percival corrected him, though he damn well knew that ‘steal’ was the right word. But ‘borrow’ might make Newt feel better about it, at least.

 

He held out his hand and Tina dropped the bypass module into it. “Alright, we’ve lost their line of sight for the moment. Let’s take advantage while we can,” Percival pointed out, leading the two of them out of the parking garage and behind the line of police cars, where panicked civilians were leaving for their cars and looking for separated friends and loved ones. It was exactly the kind of chaos they needed.

 

They slipped into the crowd and went to the police car at the far end of the line. The cop had left the keys in the car when he rushed inside, and it was far enough down that when the three of them got in, they went unnoticed in the general mayhem.

 

Grindelwald’s people had created just the kind of atmosphere that would allow them to escape easier.

 

Percival ran the bypass module as Tina turned the laptop between the front seats her way and started to type rapidly. When Percival shot a look in the rearview mirror, Newt looked downright uncomfortable behind the plexiglass partition.

 

“I can’t believe we’re stealing a police car,” Newt muttered, and Percival snorted.

 

“ _Borrowing_.”

 

He threw it into gear and pulled away from the airport, lights and sirens off so he wouldn’t attract attention. They couldn’t afford it, not with this many cops around, and not with Grindelwald still on their tail.

 

“Now do you see why I told you to have Newt stay in Seattle?” Tina asked after she’d finished with the laptop. “Grindelwald used him against you. Newt would probably be dead right now if he hadn’t been interrupted.”

 

“It won’t happen again. We were caught off guard,” Percival snapped. “None of us expected Grindelwald to show up there. Not even you.”

 

“That doesn’t change the fact that he knows exactly how to get to you now- all he has to do is threaten your boyfriend.”

 

“Speaking of his ‘boyfriend’,” Newt said from the backseat, his voice near icy. “Said boyfriend would like to remind both of you that plexiglass isn’t soundproof and it’s not a turn on in the least to be talked about as if I’m not even here.”

 

“Sorry,” Percival muttered, and though Tina shot him a glare, she fell silent. Awkward silence reigned in the vehicle- other than Tina giving Percival directions toward the safe house- for far too long before Tina sighed.

 

“So what now?” she asked. “We’re here, and as far as I can tell that little run in didn’t jog your memory any.”

 

“Just bits and pieces. I can’t remember anything that links it all together,” Percival muttered. “I need to go somewhere that I spent a lot of time. Somewhere I would have kept anything I didn’t want other people to find.”

 

“That would be your office. Which is in the CIA headquarters. Which is a resounding ‘fuck no’ from me,” Tina pointed out. “There is no way we’re sneaking into the CIA headquarters as wanted fugitives. It’s not happening.”

 

Obviously she didn’t like the way that both Percival and Newt seemed to be actually considering the option, thinking it over, because this time she glared at both of them. “Stop it. Stop thinking about it! It’s not going to happen!”

 

“You know, it’s exactly the opposite of what they might expect,” Newt said with a shrug. “They know it’s impossible to do, which might just make it _possible_.”

 

Tina nearly choked. “Percival. _Please_. Tell him that this is the worst idea since the invasion of Russia in the middle of winter. We can’t do this.”

 

“You’re talking about a guy who hugs grizzly bears. I doubt he’s much concerned with what’s ‘possible’ or ‘likely’,” Percival said, his voice fond as he ignored the inevitable mutter of ‘ _it was one bloody bear, you massive dolt_ ’ from the backseat.

 

“Let’s just get to the safe house. I need to…scream into a pillow or something,” Tina muttered. “You two are going to give me a heart attack before being chased down and shot at ever does.”

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina shot Percival and Newt a glare. “Go ahead,” she said, the words laced with sarcasm. “Tell Queenie what you want to do next. She’ll get a good laugh out of it, I’m sure.”
> 
> “We’re going to break into my old office,” Percival said, and Queenie’s eyes widened.
> 
> “Oh, how exciting!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm a happy camper. I get to go to Harry Potter Wizarding World in April. I just might die of happy. <3 
> 
> Next chapter will likely go up Thursday night; if not, then Friday for certain. Thank you SO much for all the lovely reviews; your compliments and passion for the plot and characters make it all worthwhile!

The safe house turned out to be an apartment on the fifth floor of a building in an only halfway decent part of the city; they decided to drop the police car a few blocks away and then walked the rest of the way there, just to be safe. Percival fell into step next to Newt and reached out, taking his injured arm in a gentle hold.

 

The sleeve was torn and there was a red gouge where the bullet had clipped his arm; it seemed to have stopped bleeding, at least. It looked painful, and the sleeve of Newt’s shirt was soaked with a red bloodstain that was quickly turning brownish-red as it dried.

 

“We’ll get you cleaned up at the apartment,” Percival said as he reluctantly let go of Newt’s arm. “I’m sure there’ll be some painkillers there too.”

 

“It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that bad,” Newt said with a dismissive wave as he took off his glasses and stowed them away, and Percival snorted.

 

“Liar.”

 

“It’s just a scrape,” Newt said softly, and Percival gave up arguing with him about it for now.

 

He was still going to make him take some kind of painkiller when they got to the apartment. It wasn’t like they had all the natural ingredients for tea here.

 

The sight of the blood on Newt’s sleeve was enough to make him feel slightly ill. No matter how Newt had responded, Grindelwald had been right about one thing; it was Percival’s fault that Newt had been dragged into this mess in the first place. And he’d already been hurt.

 

And now Grindelwald had made it clear that he would readily hurt or kill Newt to make Percival cooperate, which only cemented his suspicions that there was a whole lot more going on here than him being a supposed traitor. However estranged Newt might be from his family, his father and brother were important enough that trying to cover up Newt’s death would present a major problem.

 

Whatever was going on here, it was important enough that Grindelwald was willing to take that risk without a second thought.

 

“It’s in here,” Tina said, and she led the way into a brick apartment building with an old fashioned lobby; it was fairly obviously an old hotel converted into apartments, judging by the size and style of the lobby.

 

Their apartment was on the fifth floor, at the end of the hall, and when they got there the door was already unlocked. Tina and Percival gave each other a glance; that could mean anything, and they needed to be ready. Percival guided Newt behind him, ready to move fast if they needed to, and Tina pushed the door open.

 

“There you are! I was so worried!” came a voice from inside, and Tina went right in. Percival relaxed a bit as he followed; the voice sounded…familiar. It belonged to a woman a little taller than Tina, with blonde hair styled into dramatic curls and eyes so wide and blue that she gave the impression of a living doll.

 

“Queenie,” Tina said, pulling the woman into a hug. Percival closed the door behind Newt and locked it, satisfied that they were safe for now.

 

“Percival, I…you probably don’t remember. This is my sister, Queenie; she works in the Counterintelligence Center Analysis Group,” Tina explained, and Queenie frowned deeply.

 

“Why wouldn’t he remember me?” she asked, almost _pouting_ over it. “I made him hot cocoa for all his meetings…”

 

“He took quite the bump to the head,” Newt explained. “Afraid he doesn’t remember a whole lot about his life and work yet.”

 

Queenie shifted gears faster than a muscle car on a steep hill when she spotted the blood on Newt’s hand and arm. “Oh, honey, you’re hurt! Come on, sit down. Let me clean that up and get you some ibuprofen,” she said, and before Newt could argue, she was dragging him to the couch by his good arm. Percival tried to hide his smirk, but he was glad that someone else was ready and willing to look after Newt, too.

 

It gave him a chance to look around the apartment. A breakfast bar connected the living room and kitchen, and there was an electric fireplace underneath the television in the living room. The furnishings were standard, and there were no personal touches, no family photos; this was obviously set up for temporary use rather than a permanent dwelling. He could see down the hallway from here, and there were at least three doors- two bedrooms and a bathroom, then.

 

“Queenie, this is Newt Scamander. He’s a…zoologist,” Tina said as Queenie set to work cleaning up Newt’s arm.

 

“I remember; he’s the other one you needed the fake identification for,” Queenie said as she worked. She looked up at Newt with a sympathetic expression. “How’d you get dragged into all this, darling?”

 

“I, uh…found Percival. After he was injured,” Newt said, seeming flustered by the attention and the terms of endearment, and Percival rolled his eyes.

 

“Don’t let him be that humble,” he said, and he sat down in the chair across from the couch. “Newt saved my life. Nursed me back to health in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him.”

 

“That was sweet of you,” Queenie said with a smile, and Newt just blushed and ducked his head.

 

“He’s since repaid me, so it’s hardly a big deal,” he said with a furtive smile in Percival’s direction.

 

Percival just hoped that they wouldn’t be trading off favors of saving each other’s life anymore. He could do without that kind of stress and excitement.

 

“How secure are those I.D.s you got us?” Tina asked, and Queenie smiled brightly.

 

“Airtight. I had Credence work on them with one of his contacts out in Seattle. Nothing gets by him.”

 

“Who’s Credence?” Percival asked, because that name sounded familiar, too-

 

_-“Credence Barebone. Aren’t you a little young for this department?”_

_“Percival Graves, right? Same guy who got arrested for punching your principal in the face when you were fifteen? Record expunged, but I like to know my bosses before I start doing the heavy work for them. I could start listing off your Google searches at home and work for the past month, if you doubt my attention to detail.“_

_“…Yeah, you’ll do fine. Welcome to the agency.”-_

 

“He’s one of the newer hires in the Information Operations Center Analysis Group. He’s a prodigy with computers,” Tina was saying even as the memory played out in Percival’s mind. “He’s also sympathetic to anyone who wants to pull the rug out from under Grindelwald. Grindelwald promised him a higher position going in, and then changed his mind literally right when Credence was filling out his new hire paperwork. Hit him pretty hard. He deserved better.”

 

“I remember. Sort of,” Percival muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. The memories were just too…fragmented. Distant. Like watching fifteen-second scenes from a movie when he didn’t know the plot or any of the characters.

 

“Why did you three need to come here? This is probably the worst place you could be right now,” Queenie pointed out, and Tina laughed.

 

“That’s what I told them. But Percival wanted to go somewhere familiar to try and remember what he planned to tell me before he went on that trip with Grindelwald.”

 

“Whatever it is, it has to be important. Otherwise Grindelwald wouldn’t be going to all this trouble over it,” Newt said, and Queenie frowned, sitting back for a moment.

 

“So what’s the plan?”

 

Tina shot Percival and Newt a glare. “Go ahead,” she said, the words laced with sarcasm. “Tell Queenie what you want to do next. She’ll get a good laugh out of it, I’m sure.”

 

“We’re going to break into my old office,” Percival said, and Queenie’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh, how exciting!”

 

“ _Queenie_!” Tina said with exasperation, as if she’d been horribly betrayed. “They’re talking about breaking into the CIA Headquarters. They literally want to break into a building full of CIA agents. Do you not see the problem with this?”

 

“Well, of course I do. They aren’t dressed anything at all like CIA agents. We obviously need to go shopping first.”

 

Tina smacked her forehead. “I’m surrounded by people with a death wish,” she said, and then she gestured to Newt. “He’s a Brit who hugs bears for a living, how do we make _him_ look like a CIA agent?”

 

“Oh, don’t you start in on that too,” Newt moaned miserably, and Percival chuckled.

 

“We just need an in,” he said, trying to draw their attention back to the issue at hand. “We need a reason that people who aren’t normally there are going to be there.”

 

Silence fell for a few moments, and then Queenie snapped her fingers. “The charity summit!” she said. “Grindelwald is having a luncheon tomorrow, inviting a bunch of government big names and charity folk to a catered lunch to discuss security for the upcoming White House charity events. It’s going to be catered and everything.”

 

“Then that’s our ‘in’,” Percival said. “Queenie, can you find out what the catering company is? I think Newt and I need to pick up a catering job in the next 18 hours.”

 

“And me too,” Tina said, and when Percival raised an eyebrow at her curiously, she lifted her chin. “I might think you’re crazy, but like hell am I going to let you do this on your own. I’ve always been your backup before, and I’m not abandoning you now just because I think this is too dangerous.”

 

“You sure?” Percival asked her, and Tina nodded once, firmly.

 

Well. If she was going to offer her help and stick with them, Percival wasn’t about to send her away. He had the feeling they would need all the help they could get.

 

“Well, I don’t want you all out running across the city. Give me your measurements and I’ll have proper attire brought by here for you,” Queenie said as she stood and straightened her dress. “Catering uniforms, and appropriate party wear for underneath. That way you’ll fit in no matter where in the building you have to go.”

 

“Thank you, Queenie. For everything,” Percival said, and Queenie grinned brightly.

 

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Graves! You’ve always been nice to us down in the basement departments. I’m sure there are loads of people who’ll have your back once this is all straightened out.”

 

And that…that was actually really nice to hear. Percival, until now, hadn’t been sure what kind of person he was before all of this happened; but now, with Tina and Queenie willing to risk their careers and their lives to help him, he couldn’t help but begin to feel like he hadn’t been that bad of a guy to start with.

 

And as if hearing his thoughts, Newt gave him a bashful smile. Of course Newt had been right; Percival wasn’t sure why he bothered to doubt the redhead anymore.

 

“We’re going to rest here and eat something. If you need us, my cell phone is still secure. Oh, and if you can- get us some weapons,” Tina said to Queenie, and then the blonde took her leave. Tina set to rigging the doors and windows with coins and cans of soda from the refrigerator, just as she’d done at the hotel.

 

“Okay. If we’re actually going to do this, all three of us need to be fully informed,” Tina said, and then she pulled out a few pieces of paper and a pen from a desk nearby. She sat down on the couch next to Newt, laid the paper on the coffee table, and started to sketch.

 

It was a rough diagram of the setup of the headquarters building. She used one paper for each floor, and labeled entrances, exits, and rooms of interest before she set the pen down.

 

“The caterers will come in this back entrance, through the garage. There will be security there, so we won’t be able to bring weapons.”

 

“What about the food?” Newt asked, and Tina frowned.

 

“What about it?”

 

“Does the food go through the metal detectors and x-ray machines?”

 

Percival laughed as he realized what Newt was getting at. “Newt, you are a genius,” he said, leaning across the table to kiss the flustered redhead. “We’ll hide the weapons in the food containers. Once they’re inside, we can hide the weapons on ourselves.”

 

“With all luck, we won’t have to use them,” Tina said, and then she tapped a room on the first floor diagram. “This will be our problem; the main security room. The cameras are constantly running from here, and monitored; we’ll have to know where the cameras are and hide our faces until we can do something about them.”

 

“Can they be disabled?” Percival asked, and Tina shook her head.

 

“No. That would set off every alarm in the place,” she said. “But if I can get in there, I can set the cameras on a temporary loop. Not all of them, it would be too obvious; I’ll have to stay in the security room and loop the cameras along the path that you and Newt plan to take. It’s the only way you’ll possibly get in and out without triggering the automated facial recognition alarms.”

 

“Can you do that without putting yourself in undue danger?” Newt asked, and Tina laughed.

 

“There is no part of this that won’t be incredibly dangerous, Newt. We’ll likely get caught and have to make a run for it at some point,” she said. “But if I can get in that room and subdue the guard watching the cameras, I can cover for you two.”

 

“Where is my office on here?” Percival asked, and Tina shuffled to the third floor diagram.

 

“Here. You had the corner office at the northeast end of the building. Which means you’re going to have to hope that most of the people who normally work in that hall are at the luncheon, because if they get a decent look at you, they’ll recognize you and sound the alarm. Everyone in the entire division knows you, Percival. You just _can’t_ be seen once you’re in this part of the building, or it’s all over.”

 

“At least they won’t be expecting to see him,” Newt said with a shrug that quickly turned into a wince, and he started to reach for his injured arm, but stopped himself. “No one will expect us to walk right into CIA Headquarters. Least of all Grindelwald, I think.”

 

Tina nodded. “And with all luck, he’ll be far too busy kissing ass with his guests to pay much attention to what’s going on elsewhere in the building,” she said, and then she sighed and took off the wig she’d been wearing all day and tossed it aside, her real hair flat and damp underneath. “I don’t like our chances, but they’re not going to get any better.”

 

“And we can’t afford to wait,” Percival said, and then he looked up at both Newt and Tina and raised an eyebrow. “You both ready for this?”

 

The two of them nodded; Tina was right. This was the closest to an ‘ideal’ situation that they were going to get.

 

This had to work. It was all they had to go on.

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

Percival slept like the dead, and by the next morning, he felt rested- if incredibly nervous.

 

Not that you would be able to tell by looking at him. He’d discovered in all of their recent adventures that he was good at internalizing any anxiety or fear; he could tell that it was easy for him to keep his expressions schooled and calm. Probably from years and years of practice in dangerous situations. The sound of gunshots made his heart race, but it didn’t trigger panic- instead, it triggered focus. He was at home in the midst of an adrenaline rush.

 

Not so much Newt, though. The redhead was adjusting his bow tie in the mirror; underneath his white catering uniform he would be wearing brown trousers, a white button up shirt, a light brown vest, and the aforementioned bowtie. He looked like he belonged at a fancy luncheon- even if the hair wasn’t exactly to dress code.

 

Percival could forgive that. He liked Newt’s hair just the way it was.

 

“You look nervous,” he said, stepping up behind Newt and settling his hands on the man’s slender hips. He kissed lightly at the side of Newt’s throat, and Newt laughed.

 

“Oh, not at all,” he said, meeting Percival’s gaze in the mirror. It was a study in contrasts; Newt’s more earthy tones versus the black, white, and splash of red in Percival’s outfit. “Just about to sneak our way into one of the most secure buildings in America whilst we’re highly wanted fugitives. Nothing to be nervous about at all, really.”

 

“All goes well, and they’ll never even know we were there.”

 

Newt smirked and turned around in Percival’s arms, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you really expecting things to go well?”

 

“No, not really. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

 

“If the bridge isn’t on fire. Or collapsed.”

 

Percival laughed. “Well, aren’t you a well of optimism?”

 

Newt sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, making it even messier than it already had been. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft and uncertain as he rubbed self-consciously at his bandaged arm. “I just…I worry that I’ll make a mistake that will cost us the whole thing. You and Tina, you…you seem to know exactly what you’re doing. And I’m…tagging along, trying not to get shot. And failing, it seems.”

 

Percival’s smile softened. Of course Newt would be scared, worried; the man was smart, and he’d done so amazingly well so far- any other civilian in his position might have mentally crumbled by now- but this would be overwhelming for anyone. He went from a peaceful existence to running for his life in a matter of days, and it couldn’t have been easy in the least. He’d given up everything that was familiar to him in order to save Percival’s life, with the faith that the man he was helping was worth the trouble, and not actually some sort of villain.

 

The guilt of it made Percival’s stomach twist inside him.

 

“You’ll do fine. You were the one who got us out of there by dog sled even when they chased us down on snowmobiles- which was damn impressive, by the way. You were the one who got Jacob to give us a ride to Seattle. You were the one who came up with the idea of smuggling the weapons in with the food today,” he said, his tone more serious now. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you, CIA agent or not.”

 

Newt smiled shyly and looked down at the floor. “I’m sure you could have managed somehow.”

 

“No,” Percival said, and then he slipped a hand under Newt’s chin and tilted his head up, brown eyes meeting green. “No, I couldn’t have. I would have died out there about five times over. There’s no one I would rather have watching my back for all of this, Newt.”

 

To reinforce the words, he leaned in and kissed Newt firmly; it had been far too long since they’d had a single moment to themselves to do this. Every other moment alone, they’d been exhausted and afraid and too worried about their next move to even consider having a private moment. But now, they knew what they had to do, knew what was coming- and damn it, Percival was going to take the opportunity to share at least one kiss with Newt before they dove back into the fray.

 

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Percival whispered as soon as the kiss broke, and Newt smiled again; this time, the smile was more genuine, more relaxed.

 

“I believe you,” Newt said. “I trust you.”

 

And perhaps that scared Percival more than the danger they were about to put themselves in- the fact that Newt trusted him to make the right decisions, and bring them out the other side of it alive and unharmed.

 

It was a lot of pressure, to say the least. He felt responsible for Newt, responsible for anything that might happen to him from here on out.

 

There was a soft knock on the door, and Tina opened it up and poked her head through. “It’s time, guys. We need to go soon,” she said, and Percival sighed and nodded.

 

“We’ll meet you out there in just a second,” he said, and she nodded and disappeared, pulling the bedroom door shut behind her.

 

He promptly pulled Newt into another kiss, more insistent this time, more passionate, and Newt grinned into it and wrapped his arms around Percival’s neck. “We really should go,” he murmured into the kiss after a few moments, despite the fact that neither of them was loosening their hold on the other.

 

“She can wait a minute,” Percival insisted, nipping lightly at Newt’s lower lip and taking advantage of his gasp of surprise to deepen the kiss.

 

There was something funny about the two of them making out like teenagers right before a covert mission of sorts, but the joke was lost in the seriousness of the situation. He wasn’t even considering that this might be the last chance they got to do this- no, he had full intentions of getting them out of this intact- but there was a desperation to it even still.

 

“I love you,” Newt said softly as they broke the kiss again, and Percival took a moment to memorize how he looked right now; his pupils wide, his skin flushed and his freckles standing out, his lips the slightest bit swollen.

 

Yes, he would definitely be getting them both out of this, because he refused to give Newt up. Refused to give up what they had.

 

“I love you too,” he said, reluctantly pulling back. “Come on. Let’s get the catering uniforms on and get to headquarters. I want to find out what’s in that damn office.”


	12. Hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He let go, and Newt let out a strangled scream as he lost his grip and dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you reviewers are amazing, wonderful people. Also, EstherCloyse made a really cool polyvore set for this and it made me SO happy and I have to share it: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=215157601
> 
> I am going to do my damn best to get the next chapter up Sunday night, because otherwise it probably wouldn't be till Tuesday. Might be a bit tight, but I think I can do it. <3

This time, they used a car that Queenie actually left for them outside the apartment building, rather than stealing one. Percival could practically feel the sheer relief coming off Newt in waves.

 

Percival, meanwhile, was kind of sad he didn’t get to steal one this time. It’s a little bit exciting. He didn’t mention this fact to Newt, though; he had the feeling it might have earned him a glare or a disappointed look.

 

Besides, now was the time to focus on the plan ahead. They had boxes of food in the back of the car, and amongst the stuffed mushrooms and caprese skewers were well-hidden handguns and knives. Queenie seemed to be a magician; ask for anything, and she provided it with gusto, and fast. She seemed to have half the city wrapped around her finger, ready to do her bidding.

 

“So we’ll get inside, and then split up,” Tina explained, still going over her sketches of the building. “Give me exactly three minutes before you leave the kitchens; that will give me enough time to get to the security room and start the first cameras on a looping feed.”

 

“Got it.”

 

“Where are the cameras in the kitchen again?” Tina asked, looking back at Newt expectantly; evidently she’d decided that if the zoologist was going to be sticking with them, she was going to put him through his paces and challenge him at every turn. If she had her way, he would probably qualify to be an agent by the time this was through.

 

“Back right corner of the first kitchen, corner straight across from the door in the second room. Face turned to the left through the first doorway, head down through the second,” Newt said, repeating back her exact instructions from earlier, and she nodded, seemingly satisfied. For the moment, at least.

 

“Good. You just might get through this in one piece, Mr. Scamander.”

 

It was said with a good hint of humor, but Percival could see the way Newt’s jaw tensed as he looked down in response. It was just feeding into his concerns that he’d already talked over with Percival; that all he was able to do in these situations was survive rather than help.

 

Somehow, Percival had the feeling that Newt’s clever mind would end up helping them again before this was all over. Probably more than once.

 

“We’re almost there,” Percival said as he pulled onto the right street. He could see the catering vans parked in the lot ahead, and the area around them was a rush of activity, food boxes being carted to and fro. “Just walk in like we belong there and keep track of our own boxes. Last thing we need is some other employee opening up the stuffed mushrooms and finding a handgun in with them.”

 

He pulled up nearby, and the three of them pulled on the hats that came with the catering uniforms. Percival looked to Tina and Newt one more time, making sure they were both ready before he got out of the car and opened up the trunk.

 

Each of them took a box emblazoned with the caterer’s logo, and Percival led them around the corner and into the hectic crowd of people moving catering boxes from vans to carts that went into the building. Percival set his box down on the top of one of the carts, and Tina and Newt followed suit before he headed for the back entrance of the building.

 

Just as Tina had guessed, they had disinterested guards running the catering security. The two men barely looked up as they went through the metal detectors, and once on the other side, they picked up their three boxes off the cart and carried them off to one side in the kitchen, in a blind spot away from the camera.

 

He made quick work of passing a handgun to Tina and one to Newt, though with all luck, they wouldn’t need to use them; the last thing they needed was to cause a panic in this particular building. With weapons hidden away, they needed a place to strip off the catering uniforms and stow them away- and a nearby storage closet was as good a place as any. As soon as the coast was clear for a moment, they slipped inside.

 

“I’ll go first,” Tina said, taking off the hat and tossing it aside. She unzipped the catering uniform and peeled it off, revealing a sharp pants suit underneath. “Wait here for at least three minutes, and then go. I’ll cover for you.”

 

Percival nodded, stripping down to his formalwear as Newt did the same. Tina finished shoving her catering uniform into the back of a shelf, and then she took a deep breath and left the storage closet, pulling the door shut behind her.

 

“Newt,” Percival said, and he paused to straighten the redhead’s bow tie. “I’m going to have you lead. I’ll tell you where to go.”

 

Newt looked up, wide-eyed. “Why me?”

 

“Because you’re less likely to be recognized. If anyone walks past us, I can use you to obscure their view of me. Better chance of us getting there unhindered,” Percival explained. “Just follow my directions and try to look like you know where you’re going. Confidence is the key to getting away with this sort of thing.”

 

“Confidence. Right,” Newt said, though he looked anything but confident. In fact, he looked slightly ill. Percival cupped his face and kissed him lightly, trying to be encouraging.

 

“You’ve got this,” he said, and he checked his cell phone, a burner Queenie had given him. One more minute, then they would need to head upstairs.

 

“You do know I’ve got no idea how to use this gun you gave me, right?” Newt asked, and Percival chuckled.

 

“I figured as much. But I’ll be right beside you the whole time; if anyone starts shooting, it will be me,” he said. “Golden rule; don’t pull your weapon and point it unless you’re ready and willing to pull the trigger.”

 

He checked his phone again; it was time to go. “Alright. Let’s head out,” he said, and he opened the door enough to check and make sure it was still clear before he opened it all the way and nudged Newt out. “Door on the right, take a right down the hallway, and keep going until you hit the elevators.”

 

Newt nodded and started to lead the way, and Percival fell into step behind him. He was paranoid of the cameras along the way, but no alarms went off, and none of the cameras changed from their usual back and forth patterns; evidently Tina had gotten to the security room and gotten the loops started.

 

They only passed a couple of people on their way to the elevators, and those people were disinterested in them, carrying papers or cell phones that kept their attention elsewhere. They stepped onto the first elevator to open, and Percival pressed the button for the third floor.

 

“Turn left out of the elevator. Take another left at the first intersection, and then a right when you hit the end of that hall,” Percival explained quietly, and Newt nodded, his whole body tense. Percival reached out and placed a hand at the small of his back, rubbing his thumb gently over the fabric of the shirt and vest. “Deep breaths, Newt. So far, so good.”

 

Newt relaxed the slightest bit. Not by much.

 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, and Newt took a deep breath before he led them out and started down the hall. It seemed deserted- but just before they got to the first intersection, someone turned the corner. Someone Percival recognized. The name Abernathy floated up unbidden, and a memory-

 

_-the slender, shorter man set a cup of coffee on his desk and gave him a smile, the kind of smile that practically screamed of barely hidden motives, and Percival raised an eyebrow._

_“I…didn’t ask for coffee, Abernathy.”_

_“I know, sir, but you’re working late, and I know you haven’t been down in the break room in a while, so I thought you might appreciate a pick-me-up.”_

_“…right. Uh, thank you.”_

_An awkward pause._

_“…you can go, Abernathy.”_

_“Right. Right, of course, going now, sir.”-_

 

And all at once, Percival realized that he could absolutely not be seen by this man. “Newt, cover for me,” he whispered, and then he ducked into the nearest open room, out of sight behind the wall. Footsteps came closer, and then voices.

 

“Hold on there; what are you doing up here?” Abernathy asked, and Percival held his breath and prayed that Newt could pull this off.

 

“Oh, I…I’m sorry, I was looking for the loo, afraid I got turned around. It’s a bit of a maze in here,” Newt replied, and there was a beat of silence before Abernathy spoke again.

 

“There are bathrooms on the first floor. Adjacent to the dining rooms.”

 

“Right. Sorry about that. I’ll be, uh…going, then-“

 

“Do I know you? You look familiar.”

 

Percival wanted to curse. He clenched his fist so hard his nails dug into his skin, and he pleaded silently for Newt to just get through this one little hiccup.

 

“I…don’t believe we could know each other. I’ve not been to the states in years.”

 

“From England, right? What’s your name?”

 

“I’m, uh…Edward Farrell, with the Aberforth Wildlife Charity Commission,” Newt explained, using the name off his fake identification. There was another uncomfortable silence, and Percival’s hand began to slide toward where his gun was hidden.

 

“Right, then,” Abernathy said, sounding irritated. “Well, the bathrooms are downstairs. You’re not supposed to be up in the offices. See that you find your way back down there, will you?”

 

“Of course. Sorry to inconvenience you,” Newt said, and then there was the sound of footsteps moving away, and Percival breathed a sigh of relief. It was a long few moments before Newt slipped into the room, and he looked both relieved and panicked.

 

“Who was that?” he asked in a whisper, and Percival laughed humorlessly.

 

“Abernathy,” he said, practically spitting the name. “He used to constantly do me ‘favors’ trying to get into my pants. He’s a brown-noser and a sleazeball.”

 

“Well, we should hurry,” Newt said, glancing toward the door. “I don’t know how well I convinced him.”

 

Percival nodded, and they were moving again in moments, a bit faster now that they knew their cover could be blown at any moment.

 

And if it was, Percival was going to put a bullet in Abernathy’s knees, just for fun. And maybe one in his dick, too.

 

Two more hallways, though, and they didn’t pass anyone else; it seemed like most people were down at the luncheon. They reached the door at the end of the hall, where the name placard still read ‘Percival Graves: Director of Operations’. He tried the handle, but of course it was locked; luckily, he’d planned ahead.

 

He glanced down the hall, and then pulled out his lock pick. He slid it into the lock, and one at a time, he nudged each tumbler into alignment until the lock clicked open. He pushed the door open, went inside, and then closed the door as soon as Newt was inside.

 

When he turned on the light, he was greeted with a flood of familiarity. The office was all warm mahogany and shining surfaces, with a large desk and leather chairs, and cases containing plaques, awards, and books lining one wall. Behind the desk was a globe below a large painting of the Washington Monument, flanked by two framed diplomas.

 

He couldn’t help but be curious. He stepped around the desk; one was a Master’s degree from Yale in Criminal Justice, and the other was a Master’s Degree in Business Administration.

 

Memories came flooding back. Late nights spent drinking cold coffee and studying until he couldn’t string together a single sentence anymore, his parents’ approval-

 

_-the car crash, the phone call, nearly collapsing at his desk out of shock-_

 

His breath halted suddenly, and he went rigid. He felt Newt’s hand touch his arm, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t reassure him, not yet.

 

“Percival…?” Newt said, only glancing at the diplomas before he looked at Percival with concern.

 

“My parents,” Percival managed, his voice choked and quiet. “I just remembered. They both died in a car crash, not long after I got hired by the CIA.”

 

Newt’s expression turned to one of sympathy. “I’m so sorry,” he said, and Percival shook his head. Things were coming back to him faster now, but there were still giant chunks of his life missing.

 

“It was…a long time ago. It’s okay,” he said, because while the grief hit him hard in that first moment, he felt things falling into place. He’d mourned them, but at the same time, he knew he’d made them proud. He was their only son, they’d wanted the best for him, and he’d worked hard to prove that they’d done a good job of raising him.

 

He’d succeeded. And something told him that even now, they would still be on his side.

 

But they were taking too long here. The trip down memory lane was nice, but they didn’t have the time for it. Percival grabbed a leather shoulder bag from where it sat beside the desk, and he pushed it into Newt’s hands.

 

“I’m going to look around. I want you to take any paperwork and anything that looks important out of that desk and put it in here,” he said, and Newt nodded and moved to sit at the desk, starting to go through the drawers.

 

Percival looked around the room, trying to remember where he would hide anything that he couldn’t afford to have found. The books were too obvious; even civilians kept false books with storage inside. The ‘safe behind the picture on the wall’ idea was cliché, as was the false desk drawer. No, he wouldn’t have done something so expected or obvious.

 

There was only one thing that felt out of place to him. Everything in the room meant something or served a purpose of some kind, from the awards to the books to the pen holder on the desk- but the globe was superfluous at best. Unnecessary. Others might see it as normal office decoration, but Percival saw a decoration in a room that was lacking anything else that was just there to look good.

 

He went to the globe and touched it carefully, turned it, inspected for anything odd. It had a barely noticeable seam cutting horizontally across the equator line, and he tried to pry at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

 

Something tugged at his memory, and he reached up to the top of the globe and turned the knob that held it in place. There was a soft click, and when he tugged at it this time, the top half of the globe swung upward, revealing a hidden compartment. Newt turned and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Clever,” he said. “What’s in it?”

 

Percival reached in and pulled out a small bag, and emptied the contents into his hand- it was a USB drive.

 

Somehow, he knew this was what he’d been looking for.

 

There was a sound down the hallway, and voices, and Percival cursed and closed the globe. He put the flash drive back in the bag and pocketed it, and then took the leather bag from Newt and slung it across his chest. “We have to go, now,” he said, but when he went to the door, he didn’t open it; instead, he locked it, and then he turned toward the large windows.

 

Newt gave him a pleading look. “Can’t we use the door?” he asked, and Percival shook his head.

 

“Not this time,” he said, and he picked up the leather chair sitting behind the desk. “Back up, Newt.”

 

Newt backed up, and Percival heaved the chair through the window, glass falling to the floor and outside. He took the hole punch off the desk and ran it along the bottom edge of the window, knocking away any remaining shards of glass so they wouldn’t get cut.

 

“We’re three floors up, Percival. We can’t jump,” Newt said as Percival looked out the window.

 

“There are enough windows and handholds. We can climb down,” he said, and he held out a hand to Newt. The voices were getting closer now, louder. “Come on. I’ll go first.”

 

Newt looked a bit pale as he grabbed Percival’s hand and went to the window, but the second he glanced down, he looked even paler. “There’s no way,” he said, the words nearly a moan, and Percival hopped up onto the window ledge.

 

“You can do it. Remember, three points of contact at all times. I’ll be right there with you.”

 

“I’ll _fall_.”

 

“I won’t let you.”

 

Newt met his gaze, his expression pained, fearful; but then someone tried to turn the doorknob. It wouldn’t be long before they forced their way inside.

 

Percival felt nothing but pride as Newt seemed to steel himself, nodded, and then climbed precariously onto the ledge of the window.

 

“Just don’t look down. Focus on where your hands and feet need to go next,” Percival said, and Newt nodded again, swallowed hard, and then turned toward the building and started to climb down. Percival followed suit just as there was a heavy impact on the door, and someone shouting to ‘get that door open, now!’

 

He wondered, for a moment, where Tina was, or if she’d managed to get out. But he couldn’t focus on that right now; whatever was on that flash drive, he had the feeling it was the key to everything. He couldn’t get caught with that on him. He and Newt had to get away from here, and fast.

 

The climb down started slow, but that changed the moment they heard the door in the office above bang open. Newt looked up in a panic, and then took in a shaky breath, and Percival could see the moment he started to force himself to climb faster, fingers gripping tight at joints between cement blocks and the edges of windows.

 

“Stop them!”

 

The voice from above was enough to push Percival into drastic action. He grabbed Newt’s arm and glanced down; they were one floor from the ground.

 

“Jump!” he yelled, and then he practically yanked Newt off the building. Newt shouted in surprise as they fell, but it was a short enough fall to the grass that it only seemed to knock the air out of him.

 

Then two bullets hit the ground between them, and Percival dragged Newt to his feet and they took off running as fast as their feet could carry them.

 

There were trees not far away, and beyond that, a highway- then the city. They needed to get to the city, where it would be easier to lose their pursuers. Percival ran as fast as he could, Newt keeping right on his heels as they made their way through the trees to the busy road on the other side.

 

The fastest route to the city was the street, which was a vehicle only overpass leading toward the buildings across the highway. It would have to do. Percival headed that way, and heard the sound of cars peeling out behind them, already in pursuit.

 

The rush of traffic was loud, and close enough that Percival could feel the gust of wind off each passing car. He didn’t slow as they reached the overpass; he could hear the squeal of cars behind them, agents trying to keep up even as Percival led Newt to where pedestrians really didn’t belong. He stuck close to the metal railing that guarded the drop to the highway below, where four lanes of traffic each way zoomed under the bridge at seventy miles an hour.

 

Across the overpass was a more urban, crowded area. They had to make it there; then they would have a real chance of escape.

 

The sound of tires screeching and the crunch of metal made both Percival and Newt turn to look- just as a car spun out of control, hit by one of their pursuers vehicles, and skidded across the pavement right toward them. Percival dodged forward, Newt backward, and Percival lost sight of Newt just as the car slammed into the streetlight and the railing between them and split it, a section of it swinging out to dangle precariously over empty air.

 

The car skidded to a stop right where Newt had been standing.

 

“Newt!” Percival yelled, and he vaulted over the hood of the car. The light overhead flickered and went out.

 

Newt was nowhere in sight.

 

A cry of his name led Percival to the edge of the overpass, and he dropped down to his knees when he saw Newt clinging to the broken piece of railing hanging over the highway below. He reached out with one hand, bracing the other on the edge.

 

“Grab my hand!”

 

Newt glanced down, desperately trying to get a better grip on slick metal, his green eyes wide with terror. “I c-can’t-“

 

The railing creaked ominously. It wouldn’t hold his weight much longer. “Now!” Percival shouted, and Newt looked back up at the railing in a panic- and then reached out his hand toward Percival. Percival grabbed onto his hand, and Newt quickly moved the other to grab onto him as well, clinging desperately to Percival’s hand and arm.

 

If Percival lost his grip, Newt would be dead. If the fall didn’t kill him, the rushing traffic would. Some cars on the highway below had noticed something wasn’t quite right above, and they were slowing down, but other trucks and cars barreled on blissfully unaware of the drama playing out above their heads.

 

But Percival heard shouting behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see figures rushing in his direction- some probably just innocent people who only wanted to help, but surely there would be enemies among them. He didn’t have time to haul Newt back up here and still have time to get them both away safely.

 

He looked down at the traffic below, and he saw something- a chance. An opportunity.

 

Oh, Newt was going to hate him for this.

 

“Newt, I need you to trust me!” he said, and Newt looked up at him, his fear making Percival’s heart skip a beat.

 

“Please don’t tell me-“ Newt started breathlessly, his grip tightening on Percival, but Percival didn’t have time to explain; he would just have to apologize later.

 

He let go, and Newt let out a strangled scream as he lost his grip and dropped.

 

Percival didn’t hesitate; he leapt off the side of the overpass after Newt, and after a couple of harrowing moments of free fall, both he and Newt landed right in the back of an open bed semi hauling bales of hay wrapped in twine. It wasn’t a comfortable landing- Percival was pretty sure hay stabbed him in some very inconvenient places- but it provided just enough cushioning that nothing broke. His previously injured leg, though, complained quite a bit at the shock, old aches jarring back to the surface.

 

Percival sat up and immediately looked for Newt, who was on his front on the hay, up on his elbows and looking rather shocked. Percival couldn’t really blame him; he would be pretty stunned too if his boyfriend just dropped him off an overpass into highway traffic.

 

“Are you alright?” he called out, and Newt focused on him and nodded shakily.

 

“I…I think so,” he said, the wind pushing at his hair as he sat up a bit more. “Are you…?”

 

“I’m fine. Going to be picking hay out of my skin for the next week, but I think that’s preferable to being a smear on the pavement,” Percival said, speaking loudly to be heard over the wind. “We’ll just stick with this truck till the driver makes a stop. Then we need to get back to the apartment and have a look at what’s on this flash drive.”

 

“What about Tina?” Newt asked, and Percival frowned, thinking it over.

 

“If she got caught, we’ll need to find out where they took her before we can even think about doing anything,” he finally said. “I’ll have Queenie get in touch with Credence, see what he can find out. If anyone can find out what happened to her, it’s him.”


	13. Criminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have to help them,” Newt said, looking at Percival almost pleadingly. “We have to stop this, before people start dying.”
> 
> “I know. I know,” Percival said, and he ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, beginning to pace. “He’s destroyed any credibility I have. If we go to the press, they’ll claim it’s all fake and that we’re covering up for our own treason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter took a bit longer. I wasn't feeling entirely well and just couldn't pull it together around shifts by Sunday night, but I'm all better now. <3
> 
> And as an apology, you get this chapter tonight, and then you get another chapter tomorrow! Huzzah! Two days in a row! 
> 
> Also- if Credence's characterization seems odd, it's because I'm portraying him as someone who escaped his abusive household years ago and has since developed quite the independent, rebellious, snarky attitude. I hope y'all don't find it too jarring.
> 
> Enjoy! Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, you keep me motivated more than you know!

It was a couple of hours before they made it back to the apartment.

 

It was twenty minutes before the truck driver decided to stop- and really, Percival would have paid good money for a picture of the man’s face when Percival and Newt promptly climbed out of the back of his semi and dropped to the pavement- and then they had to figure out where they were before they could head back to the apartment.

 

Much to Newt’s relief, they took a taxi most of the way there rather than stealing a car. Newt’s comforting “You can steal a car the next time we’re in a life or death situation,” wasn’t exactly the reassurance he expected, but he was more than willing to take him up on the offer. A taxi ride was downright boring in comparison.

 

…maybe he wasn’t the best CIA agent in the world if he looked forward to the illegal parts of the job more than the legal parts.

 

“And by the way, I’m never going anywhere up high with you ever again,” Newt said as they trudged up the stairs to the apartment. “I think that’s the second and third times I’ve greatly regretted it.”

 

“Well, the alternative was to end up trapped on that overpass with a bunch of people who want us dead, so.”

 

“What would you have done if there weren’t a convenient truck full of hay driving past?”

 

“…aim for the crappiest car possible and hope for the best?”

 

New gave Percival a shove, and Percival just laughed, though his heart wasn’t really in it. He couldn’t help but worry about Tina. She had been the one who thought the whole operation was a bad idea; she’d tried to talk them out of it, been outspoken about the dangers of it, and now she was the one who was most at risk.

 

And he couldn’t blame it on anyone but himself.

 

All he could hope for was that whatever was on the flash drive he’d found was worth the trouble that they’d gone through to retrieve it. With how well it had been hidden, there had to be something worthwhile on it.

 

There had to be, or he didn’t know what they were going to do next. If that flash drive was empty, they had no leads, nowhere else to go, and nothing to work with.

 

Part of him hoped that when they went into the apartment Tina would be there, the door rigged, her gun in hand, and a lecture on her lips for their recklessness, but the door opened with no noise and no sign of life inside. Just to be sure, Percival handed off his bag to Newt and checked every single room to make certain that the apartment hadn’t been compromised, and then he sat to work checking every window and rigging the door before he returned to the living room.

 

Newt was already unpacking the black bag onto the coffee table, and Percival sat down next to him and looked over the papers. Most of it seemed like fairly standard stuff; reports from his subordinates, supply orders, disciplinary records, all the sorts of things you would find on someone’s desk in a normal office.

 

He wasn’t surprised. He wouldn’t leave the most valuable information out where anyone could find it; but he would have to go through all of that paperwork later, just to try and catch any more memories it might trigger.

 

“Let’s have a look at this flash drive,” he said, and he grabbed the laptop that Queenie had left for them and set it out on the table. He booted it up, plugged in the drive, and then opened it up to find a folder full of pictures.

 

He opened the first one, and it turned out to be a map of Alaska. Very few things were marked on it; just a couple of circles that seemed to be around nothing at all. Newt leaned forward with a frown, studying the map carefully.

 

“Here,” he said, pointing at a spot near the coast and beside a river, seemingly a nondescript place in the middle of nowhere; it was fairly close to one of the empty circles, though. “That’s where the cabin is.”

 

“So what’s marked up here?” Percival asked as he pointed to the circle in question, and Newt thought for a moment, eyeing the circle on the map and the coordinates jotted down beside it.

 

“Not sure. There’s only a few villages up that far north. Might be Kaluulik.”

 

The name sounded oddly familiar. Percival closed that picture and opened the next, and he found it a mess of medical jargon- and though he felt like it was looking at a foreign language, Newt went a bit stiff beside him.

 

“This is…strange,” he said, eyes flicking back and forth over the words. “Initial subjective symptoms of vertigo, nausea, bright lights in the vision, presenting symptoms of disorientation that lead to seizures…what is this about?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Percival said softly. The whole thing appeared to be some kind of a timeline- dosages next to amounts of days, symptoms reported, all of it a bit of a mess. He didn’t see what this had to do with the CIA at all.

 

He opened up the next picture, and when he realized what it was, the memories hit him like a truck.

 

Pipelines. Wells. The picture had marked all the water sources around the small village of Kaluulik, some marked in red, others in green, and Percival felt his mind reel and the room spin around him-

 

_-“These are human beings, Grindelwald. This is criminal, what you’re planning to do, no matter the justification.”_

_“This is the only way to make sure this works before we put it into action where it actually needs to be done, Percival. It’s for the greater good.”_

_“You’re going to kill those people!”_

_“Not if we only do the first two phases. This is a trial run; it will cause a bit of a local scare, but once we flush the system, things will get back to normal.”_

_“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to believe that.”_

_“It has to be done, Percival. We need to know this will work before we go using it against our enemies. There’s no time for trials and approvals, we need to take the initiative.”-_

 

“It’s chemical warfare,” Percival suddenly gasped out, and he realized Newt was holding onto him, looking concerned as he kept him from falling over. The rush of memory had left him unsteady. “Newt, that village that was on the news in Anchorage and in Seattle- that mysterious illness they’re fighting- Grindelwald is testing biological weapons on them.”

 

Newt’s green eyes went wide in horror. “What?” he asked softly, as if Percival might say he was just kidding, that the CIA couldn’t possibly be party to such a thing.

 

But they could. They _were_.

 

Percival remembered.

 

“These are water sources. These pipelines, Grindelwald was taking me out to scout them- I found out right before he took me out on the trip, but I didn’t want to think he would actually do this. I…”

 

Newt swallowed hard. “You confronted him on the helicopter,” he said softly, and Percival nodded.

 

“I told him I didn’t want any part of it. I threatened to blow the whole thing wide open, go to the press,” he said, everything coming back in flashes of memory and bits of remembered words. “He thought I would fall in line.”

 

Newt’s hands had clenched into fists as he stared at the picture of the pipelines, but there were more pictures on the drive- and they were all downright damning. Screenshots of emails between Grindelwald and other high up executives in the department, discussing how they would get the chemicals into the water supply, how to deflect if locals got suspicious; they even discussed how no one on the outside would care much, given the remoteness and low population of the village.

 

And it seemed they’d been right. Percival had seen two news reports himself and thought nothing of it.

 

“We have to help them,” Newt said, looking at Percival almost pleadingly. “We have to stop this, before people start dying.”

 

“I know. I know,” Percival said, and he ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, beginning to pace. “He’s destroyed any credibility I have. If we go to the press, they’ll claim it’s all fake and that we’re covering up for our own treason.”

 

“There has to be someone we can go to,” Newt said softly. “Wasn’t there anyone else you could trust? I refuse to believe everyone would have just…gone along with this.”

 

Percival thought for a few moments, and then it hit him.

 

“Picquery,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Seraphina Picquery, Director of the CIA. If she knew about this, she would shut it down in an instant. She’s obsessed with due process and justice.”

 

Of course, as soon as the epiphany came to him, the dread started to set back in. He and Newt were a disgraced CIA agent and a zoologist, respectively; why in the world would the Director of the CIA listen to a word they had to say?

 

And that was if they could even get to her. They’d already lost one of their allies trying to infiltrate a high security facility; surely getting close to Picquery would be even more difficult, and even more risky.

 

“Would she listen to you?” Newt asked, his expression uncertain. “If you could somehow catch her alone, would she believe you?”

 

“I…I don’t know,” Percival said, and he sank back down onto the couch next to Newt with a sigh. “I think so. But I can’t say for sure. I don’t remember how well I knew her, or what kind of relationship we had.”

 

“It’s all we have, though.”

 

It _was_ all they had right now. They couldn’t go to the press, not when their names had been dragged through the mud. He didn’t know which of his other coworkers might have been in on the whole thing, either- going to anyone else might put them in more danger than they already were. No, Picquery was their best bet; if they could get to her, surely she would put a stop to this insanity before anyone ended up dead.

 

“We need to talk to Credence,” he said with a nod, coming to the decision easily. “He’ll be able to not only track down Tina, but also tell us when our best bet is to find Picquery and get her alone.”

 

Newt pulled out the phone Queenie had given him and held it out to Percival, and Percival took it from him- but he also tugged Newt into a slow, deep kiss.

 

“We’ll get this figured out, Newt,” he said softly once they’d parted. “We won’t let them hurt anyone else. And we’ll get Tina back safely.”

 

Newt nodded, managing a worried smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Percival leaned back and dialed the number Queenie had programmed in for Credence, and it rang twice before someone picked up.

 

“Hello?” a voice said, sounding groggy despite the fact that it wasn’t even late at night, and Percival crossed his fingers that this wouldn’t be another dead end.

 

“Credence?” he said, and there was a pause at the other end of the line, and then a huff of laughter.

 

“Percival fuckin’ Graves, you old dog. And here I thought Queenie was actually on official business of some kind, asking for a fake ID with your picture on it,” the voice said, obviously Credence. Percival recognized the voice now; quiet, but youthful, with a sort of husky edge to it.

 

“They haven’t managed to kill me off yet, and I don’t plan on making it easy for them. Is this line secure?”

 

“Considering I haven’t said anything about turtles, you should know it is.”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Percival muttered. “Listen, I need a couple of very big favors from you.”

 

There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the line, as if Credence had been in bed and was just fighting his way free of the blankets. “Name it, boss.”

 

Percival chuckled. “Well, for one, I’m not your boss anymore.”

 

“Well, it’s either you or calling that bleached pineapple ‘boss’, and I’d quite frankly rather stick an actual pineapple up my ass than give him any honorifics,” Credence pointed out, and Percival winced.

 

“That’s…descriptive.”

 

“I could draw up some diagrams, if it would help,” Credence said, and Percival could hear the smirk in his tone.

 

“Not necessary,” he said, though he was smiling himself as he said it. He liked this kid. “Listen, we had an…incident at headquarters today.”

 

“Oh, that was you guys? You’ve got the whole department in an uproar.”

 

“They have Tina.”

 

For once, there was silence on the other end of the line instead of a dry joke or snarky comment in reply. It lasted a beat too long, and then Credence growled, “They _what_?”

 

“Tina was covering for us from the security room. We had to make a run for it; I’m assuming they found her and it tipped them off to us being there. We need to know where they took her,” Percival explained, because like hell was he abandoning Tina now, even in the middle of all of this insanity. He caught sight of the worried look on Newt’s face, and Percival reached out and took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

 

“I can find out,” Credence said, his voice more awake now, and more determined, too. “What else did you need?”

 

“We need to talk to Picquery.”

 

There was another long pause on the line, even longer than before, and then Credence laughed. “Sorry, boss, say again? Cause I could have sworn you just said that you, a former CIA agent wanted for treason, need to talk to the current Director of the CIA. Which is funny. It’s hilarious. Good one.”

 

“I’m serious.”

 

“Oh Lord in Heaven, I’m too young to deal with death wishes,” Credence muttered, and Percival could hear the sound of a keyboard in the background now. “Listen, I’m not a field agent. I can tell you the when and where, but when it comes to the how, you’re on your own.”

 

“Whatever you can do, Credence,” Percival insisted. “Any way you can help is more than enough.”

 

There were a few more moments of silence and the sound of Credence’s fingers on the keyboard, and then a sigh. “Well, you might have a shot tomorrow,” he finally said, and Percival’s grip tightened on Newt’s hand.

 

“When and where?”

 

“The National Cathedral. She goes to services every Sunday morning at ten. More for appearances than anything else, but still. She’ll be there.”

 

“Perfect,” Percival said. “Alright. We’ll take care of that, and you find out where they took Tina so we can jailbreak her next.”

 

“You’d better. She’s like a sister to me.”

 

“Don’t worry, Credence. You have my word, she’ll be safe,” Percival said, even though he knew it might not be a promise he could keep.

 

But he would try. He would do everything in his power to keep Tina safe.

 

He hung up the phone, and Newt looked at him expectantly. “So, where do we need to go?” he asked, and Percival took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

 

“The National Cathedral. Tomorrow at ten,” he said. “She’ll be there for services.”

 

Newt winced. “That…sounds like a place that will have a lot of people. And security.”

 

“It’s better than trying to single her out in a government building,” Percival pointed out. “Nobody is expecting us to try and contact her. If we act fast, we can catch them off guard and get a chance to talk to her.”

 

He then grabbed a small, black object off the coffee table, about the size of a dime. “And this is a digital voice recorder. If we can record the whole thing, then we’ll have proof that we at least tried to tell her, even if she chooses not to listen to us.”

 

Which was a possibility, after all. A disgraced CIA agent and a zoologist- she might decide that she wasn’t about to give them even thirty seconds of her time. But if they went to this much effort, hopefully she would see that and at least give them the opportunity to explain what was going on.

 

After all, they didn’t have a Plan B. This was it.

 

“She’ll listen. I know she will,” Newt said softly. “She _has_ to.”

 

“Well, even if we just plant the seed in her mind- even if she doesn’t take us seriously, she might still go digging and find out what’s going on. If we can get the snowball started downhill, even that might be enough,” Percival pointed out. “But for now, we need to sleep.”

 

Newt snorted. “I’m not sure I can, after all that,” he grumbled, and Percival stood up and took both of Newt’s hands in his.

 

“Come on. Let’s at least try. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, Agent Scamander.”

 

Newt laughed as he stood and allowed Percival to lead the way toward the bedroom. “Not really sure the title fits,” he pointed out, and Percival raised an eyebrow.

 

“You’ve gone undercover, been shot at, been in car chases, climbed out of buildings, and jumped out of helicopters. I’d say all of that qualifies you for at least honorary ‘Agent’ title.”

 

“ _Pushed_ out of a helicopter.”

 

“Same difference.”

 

“It’s _really_ not,” Newt said, and now that they were in the bedroom, Percival tugged him in close and kissed him lightly. Newt smiled into the kiss, and then gave Percival a look. “I’m not going anywhere above ground level tomorrow, just so you know. You seem to be fond of throwing me off high places.”

 

Percived smirked. “The first one was a push, the second was me ‘encouraging’ you to climb down, and the third time I dropped you. I haven’t thrown you off anything yet.”

 

“And I’m not going to give you the opportunity, either.”

 

Percival couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright. No heights tomorrow,” he said. “As long as you sleep now.”

 

They would both need it; tomorrow, they had to convince the Director of the CIA that her right hand man was deliberately poisoning United States citizens in the name of testing weapons for war.

 

It was difficult to be optimistic, but with Newt depending on him, he was going to do his damn best.


	14. Proof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her expression hardened. “After everything that I’ve heard, I’m not sure how you expect me to believe some wild, unfounded accusations.”
> 
> “Not unfounded. I have proof,” Percival said. “Proof that Grindelwald is testing biological weapons on an American city. Proof that his equals in the department have been in on it from the start. People are sick, maybe dying, and he’s planned the whole thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, just like I promised! <3
> 
> Next chapter will probably go up Friday night!

When Percival woke up in the morning, at first he was just able to enjoy the feeling of Newt cuddled as close to him as he could possibly get- until he remembered what they had to do today.

 

He would rather stay right here, with Newt, instead of running right into what might end up being a suicide mission, depending on how much security usually accompanied Picquery in her day-to-day routine. They did have one advantage; the fact that nobody expected him to try and contact her. They had the element of surprise, and they needed to use it effectively.

 

But he could indulge in this moment for just a bit longer. Newt had his head pillowed on Percival’s shoulder, and he was still sleeping peacefully, his breathing slow and even and his hair mussed. His freckles stood out in the morning light that shone through the sheer blinds, and Percival was reminded of the first time he’d ever seen Newt, framed in sunlight like an angel with a vibrant halo.

 

His mind hadn’t changed. Newt was just as angelic as that first day, even now.

 

Percival reached up and gently ran his fingers through Newt’s hair until the redhead began to finally stir. Green eyes opened and blinked sleepily a few times before focusing on Percival, and Newt smiled.

 

“Morning already?” he asked, and Percival kissed the top of his head.

 

“Unfortunately,” he said, taking a glance at the clock on the nightstand. “We should get up.”

 

“A few more minutes?”

 

Percival chuckled. “Alright. A few more minutes.”

 

He let Newt doze a bit longer; it was the least he could do, when he was going to ask him to put his life on the line yet again today. He would have given anything to make Newt stay somewhere far away from this, somewhere _safe_.

 

But now that he remembered everything he’d known before, _especially_ now, he knew that nowhere was truly safe anymore.

 

Eventually, he had to wake Newt up and insist that they really needed to get moving; they couldn’t just lie about forever, as much as they both might want to. Soon they were up and getting dressed, and Percival decided that taking a taxi again was probably their best bet, since their vehicle provided by Queenie was probably in the hands of the CIA by now.

 

They would likely go over it with a fine-toothed comb, but they would find nothing. Tina and Percival weren’t idiots, after all.

 

The cab ride there was mostly silent, aside from some mariachi sounding band playing from the radio and the cab driver tapping the steering wheel in time; it wasn’t like they could discuss what they were about to do. Percival had the driver drop them off a decent distance from the cathedral, and then he found a bench just far enough from the place that they wouldn’t look suspicious sitting and observing for a while.

 

They weren’t dressed for church, that was for sure. They were in their everyday clothes, while the people attending were in their Sunday best. That would throw a wrench into their plans; if they tried to walk in there, they would stand out like sore thumbs.

 

Newt nudged him and nodded toward the back of the building. “Looks like a few people go in the back with their security; the director is probably one of them. I imagine they’ll leave that way as well,” he pointed out, and Percival nodded. That would make things a bit easier; there were probably less people who took the back exit, and therefore less possible witnesses if they were to try and pull something off.

 

But that didn’t solve the problem of getting in without being obvious about it. Percival’s eyes wandered some more, until he spotted something promising to the side of the building.

 

A grounds keeping crew was working on the flower beds outside, about five men. They were all in jeans, matched with bright orange shirts under their jackets and bright orange baseball caps.

 

“There’s our in,” he said, nodding toward them, and Newt followed his gesture before giving him a look.

 

“I don’t think they’re going to just hand over their clothes to us,” he said, and then his look went stern. “And we’re not knocking them out for them.”

 

“You’re no fun at all.”

 

“They’re just doing their job!”

 

Percival huffed, and then moved his attention to the grounds keepers’ truck sitting on the road nearby. “I’ll bet they have extras in there,” he pointed out, and then he stood up. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”         

 

For once, Newt didn’t argue about it. Percival casually strolled down the path toward where the truck was parked, and when he was directly across from it, he made his way over to block anyone at the cathedral from seeing him approach.

 

He was in luck. The back of the truck was open, and amidst the lawn care supplies and chemical bottles, there was a messy stack of shirts and a few hats. He took two of each and tucked them into his jacket, and then he made quick work of returning to Newt.

 

“Got them,” he said, and he motioned for Newt to follow.

 

After a quick detour behind another building to change into their ‘uniforms’, they were ready. Services in the church were likely in full swing, which made it simpler for them to approach the back of the building, as if going inside to speak with the maintenance people or retrieve supplies from storage inside. It was all about looking confident, and Percival could definitely do that.

 

Inside, the back of the building was a maze of small rooms. Mostly small classrooms, confessional rooms, storage, rooms of private worship- and one in particular caught Percival’s eye. It was a small chapel set aside for private worship, and it was directly off the main path that the attendees would take if they planned to leave out the back of the building after services.

 

It was perfect for what they needed, aside from the judgmental eyes of Jesus on the cross over the small altar, watching as Percival thought about how he was going to have to disarm and knock out multiple security guards. But Jesus never had the CIA trying to kill him, so Percival figured he could get a pass on this one. Water into wine wasn’t a miracle that was going to cut it here, even if it would have made the whole situation a bit more tolerable.

 

“Alright,” Percival said as he looked around the room. “Newt. I’m going to need you to trust me.”

 

Newt’s expression quickly became a frown. “The last time you said something like that, you dropped me off an overpass,” he said, and Percival chuckled.

 

“No heights this time. I promised, remember?” he said. “I’m going to get Picquery and bring her in here, but I’ll have to take out her security detail too. I’ll need you to keep Picquery in here and quiet while I make sure the bodies are hidden.”

 

“Bodies?” Newt repeated, and he looked appalled, despite the fact that he’d seen Percival kill people more than once now.

 

“ _Unconscious_ bodies. I’m not going to kill them. Not on purpose, anyway,” Percival muttered. “This woman didn’t get where she is by being a pushover. I need you to use that gun to keep her here, and look convincing doing it until I finish up and come back here to talk to her. Can you do that?”

 

Newt laughed and started to reach up to nervously run his fingers through his hair, though his hand was halted by the hat still on his head. “Hold the Director of the CIA at gunpoint and hope she doesn’t decide to call my bluff and go all secret agent on me?” he said, and then he sighed. “Sure. I mean, I sort of don’t have a choice, right?”

 

“You always have a choice,” Percival said firmly. “If you don’t want to, we’ll find a different way.”

 

Newt shifted his weight and seemed to think for a moment, but then he nodded and pulled his gun from where it had been hidden under his jacket. “No, I…I can handle that. I’ll just…pretend she’s an angry bear.”

 

“…Don’t hug her.”

 

“I hate you so much.”

 

Percival grinned and pulled Newt into a firm kiss as the singing from down the hall came to a stop. “I’ll be back. Be ready to have a very pissed off woman shoved into this room,” he said, and then he went out into the hall and found an alcove to wait in nearby.

 

He hovered in wait as the services finished up and a few random employees went by, oblivious to anything out of sorts. When Seraphina Picquery walked by with her two guards, though, he was ready.

 

The first guard went down after one blow to the back of his head. The second reached for his weapon, but he didn’t even get as far as pulling it from the holster before Percival grabbed him by the skull and slammed his head into the stone wall. He went down like a rock, and Percival took Picquery by the arm and dragged her to the side chapel where Newt was waiting.

 

He would have to trust that Newt could handle this. He shoved her into the room and closed the door behind her, and then he set about dragging both of the guards into a nearby closet and tying them up and gagging them with some caution tape he found there. Even after they woke, it would take some effort and time for them to get help. It would have to be enough.

 

He hadn’t heard any gunshots or shouting yet, which was a good sign; he turned on the voice recorder attached to his jacket, and then he went back to the chapel and stepped inside.

 

Newt was holding Picquery at gunpoint; despite this, the woman looked poised as ever, standing with her shoulders back and her chin held high. Her eyes widened in recognition, though, when Percival walked in and shut the door.

 

“Percival Graves,” she breathed out. “I’d heard rumors…”

 

Percival motioned for Newt to lower the gun, and the redhead did so with a sigh of relief and tucked the gun back into his waistband under his jacket. “So sorry, Madame Director,” he said softly, and he gave her a shy smile completely at odds with the situation. “I wouldn’t really have shot you, but this whole situation has gotten rather messy.”

 

“Grindelwald has been lying about me,” Percival said, knowing that they needed to get to the point, and fast. There was no telling how long it would be before they were interrupted. “And he’s been keeping things from you, too,”

 

Her expression hardened. “After everything that I’ve heard, I’m not sure how you expect me to believe some wild, unfounded accusations.”

 

“Not unfounded. I have proof,” Percival said. “Proof that Grindelwald is testing biological weapons on an American city. Proof that his equals in the department have been in on it from the start. People are sick, maybe dying, and he’s planned the whole thing.”

 

Picquery looked…surprised. In some state of disbelief. Perhaps not as shocked as Percival expected, but that could be attributed to the fact that she thought he was lying. “Show me this proof you have,” she said, and Percival started to reach into his pocket for the flash drive- but then Newt’s hand closed on his arm, stopping him cold.

 

“Wait,” Newt said, and he was looking at Picquery with a frown as he spoke. “Something’s…not right here, Percival.”

 

Picquery’s glare focused on him. “You had best stay out of this, Scamander.”

 

And maybe, just maybe she was aware of the APB. Maybe she was more familiar with the case than he’d expected, despite the fact that Grindelwald would be trying to keep it from her.

 

Because the only other way she would already know Newt’s name was if she were already familiar with what was going on.

 

“…No,” Percival said, and she seemed to sense the gig was up. She snorted and shook her head.

 

“Oh, Percival. You always were the idealistic type, thinking that due process and justice could always work together perfectly,” she said. “I was the one who gave Grindewald the go ahead for the testing.”

 

Percival felt like the floor dropped out from under him. He couldn’t process it for the longest moment- it didn’t fit. Didn’t work.

 

Picquery had turned on him. She’d been party to this the whole time.

 

“Sometimes, it really does have to be about the greater good. About the safety of the whole versus the well-being of a few unlucky souls,” she continued, her voice calm. “That’s something you never understood. It’s why I encouraged Grindelwald to keep you in the dark. But he was so certain he could bring you around.”

 

“People are dying because of what you’ve allowed to happen!” Newt snapped, and her gaze snapped to him like a cobra focusing on a mouse.

 

“You have meddled in things far out of your league, Scamander,” she said, her voice every bit as regal and intimidating as it had always been. “And considering how difficult it would be to sully the reputation of someone so inconsequential, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to…disappear. Unless…”

 

She looked back at Percival, and arched one elegant eyebrow. “Hand over your ‘proof’, concede to your punishment for treason, and I will allow Mr. Scamander a spotless record and safe passage back to England,” she offered, and Percival’s hands clenched into fists.

 

It was tempting, in a way, knowing that Newt could be given safety, could go back to his normal life.

 

But he didn’t trust them to allow that, and more than that, Newt would never forgive him for leaving that village to suffer.

 

“No deal,” he said firmly. “What you’re doing is wrong, and we will find a way to stop you.”

 

She laughed. “You don’t have a chance. You’re up against the whole of the government, with your own reputation in tatters. You have nothing credible to your name. No one is going to listen to you, Mr. Graves.”

 

“Then I’ll _make_ them listen.”

 

Then, all hell broke loose.

 

The door burst open and the sound of gunshots ricocheted in the small space, and Percival dragged Newt behind him and pulled his gun with the other, opening fire himself. His bullets hit their mark, taking down the agent in the doorway, and the second ducked back for cover.

 

Percival dragged Newt with him out into the hall, and he fired a few more shots to keep the other agent at bay before he took off as fast as he could go and still pull Newt along beside him. Bullets rang out again, and Percival led the way down a side hall, though he had no idea where it went.

 

Turned out, it led into the sanctuary of the church, where people were still mingling after the service- or they had been. With the gunshots having gone off in the back, people were quickly scattering, and Percival took advantage of the chaos.

 

“Ditch the hat,” he said, and he tossed his own to the floor, Newt quickly following suit. Percival let go of Newt’s hand long enough to zip his jacket up to hide the bright orange shirt beneath, and he was relieved to see Newt get the idea and do the same with his coat.

 

He head yelling and footsteps behind them, but the men chasing them couldn’t fire off more shots, not when there were so many civilians around and so much chaos. Percival grabbed Newt’s hand and pulled him out the front door, and with the other hand he pulled out the bypass module from his pocket- and he made right for a motorcycle sitting amongst the cars in the lot.

 

To his credit, Newt didn’t question him. Percival got on the motorcycle and shoved the bypass module in the ignition, and the motorcycle roared to life beneath him as Newt got on behind him and grabbed on tight to his waist. Percival pulled out of the parking lot fast enough to look like he was fleeing in the general chaos, and not trying to outrun the CIA agents who would surely be right on their tail if they stopped for even a moment.

 

Police cars roared past them toward the church, a good sign that their pursuers would be delayed, and Percival drove them right toward the city, taking side streets and only pulling to the side when he was sure they’d put enough distance between themselves and the cathedral. Even then, when he parked the motorcycle he proceeded to take Newt’s hand and run a few more blocks further, in case the motorcycle was being searched for.

 

He pulled Newt into the first alley they came to once he thought they were finally safe, and both of them doubled over, trying to catch their breath. They had lost their pursuers, it seemed, but it didn’t make Percival feel much better.

 

They had struck out on the only potential ally who had any power to stop the situation in its tracks. Picquery was in on the whole damn thing; hell, she seemed to be one of the driving forces behind it.

 

They had lost. There was no one else who would listen to them.

 

“W-What now?” Newt asked breathlessly, looking lost, and Percival found that he couldn’t conjure up his usual reassuring confidence.

 

“I…I don’t know, Newt.”

 

“Oh, come on now. There’s…there’s got to be something,” Newt said, almost desperately. “There’s always another way. Another avenue to take, another contact to try.”

 

“There’s _nothing_!” Percival snapped, and he kicked at a nearby trashcan, knocking it back against the brick wall with a clatter. He saw the way Newt winced and his shoulders slumped, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

 

Newt stepped over to him and took his face carefully in both hands, making Percival actually look at him. “It’s not over,” he said softly. “I agree, this is complete shit, and…well, it’s the opposite of what we were hoping for. But it’s not a lost cause. As long as you and I are still around, it will never be a lost cause.”

 

Percival closed his eyes for a few moments, and then nodded before he opened them again. “How did you know?” he asked, his voice almost raw, and Newt frowned.

 

“How did I know what?”

 

“You knew that she was lying. You stopped me before I could give her the flash drive,” Percival said softly, and Newt shrugged.

 

“She was watching your hands.”

 

“…What?”

 

Newt let his hands drop to take Percival’s hands in his own. “When you want to know if someone’s lying, you look at their face,” he explained. “You look for signs that they’re trying to deceive you. But she was watching your hands; she was desperate to get her hands on that proof. She wasn’t watching your face because she already knew you weren’t lying to her.”

 

Percival hesitated, and then chuckled in disbelief and kissed Newt. “What would I do without you?” he asked, and Newt smiled shyly.

 

“Probably steal a lot more cars, that’s for sure,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get back to the apartment. We need to decide what we’re going to do next.”

 

Percival nodded and started toward the street with Newt in tow; there wasn’t really anything else to be done from here. They needed to regroup and decide what the next plan of action was- they needed to do something with this information, get it into the hands of someone who could do something about it.

 

Easier said than done, when it seemed there was no one in the world that they could trust.

 

Then, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, and his sudden halt made Newt pause in confusion as well. Percival smirked, and Newt tilted his head in confusion.

 

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, and Percival reached to the collar of his jacket- and tugged the voice recorder free.

 

“We haven’t lost yet.”


	15. Compromised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phone line was compromised.
> 
> And more importantly, the _safe house_ was compromised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the end here folks! All your reviews are amazing and wonderful and I love you all. <3
> 
> Next chapter will go up Sunday evening!

Back at the apartment, Percival sat on the couch and stared down at the only things that could possibly save them- the flash drive with the proof of Grindelwald’s crimes, and the voice recorder on which he had Picquery admitting her complicity in the treason.

 

And for the first time since he woke up in Newt’s cabin, he didn’t know what to do.

 

He’d briefly considered asking Newt if there was a way to get in touch with his father or brother, but he quickly banished the idea when he realized that dragging a foreign diplomat or military official into this could have repercussions far beyond a CIA scandal. Newt’s family could be destroyed if anything went wrong, and that wasn’t something Percival was willing to risk.

 

But that left them with very little recourse, despite the evidence he held in his hands.

 

Newt had been on the phone with Queenie, explaining the situation as he worked on something in the kitchen, but now he sat down next to Percival and held out a cup of tea. “Here. Drink this,” he said softly. “You’ve hardly had anything today.”

 

Percival thanked him and set the flash drive and the recorder on the coffee table, and he took the tea in both hands and sipped at it carefully- and then he grimaced. “This is…different. Kind of tastes like peppered dirt,” he said, and Newt smiled a little.

 

“It’s kava tea. I had Queenie get some before we went to headquarters,” he explained. “It’s a very potent herbal remedy for anxiety.”

 

Percival snorted. “Fitting,” he said, and then he sighed, looking down at the devices on the coffee table. “I don’t know what to do, Newt.”

 

“Isn’t there anyone else we can go to?” Newt asked, and Percival shook his head.

 

“If Picquery is compromised, then there’s no telling who we can trust,” he said. “I can’t believe she would be a part of this. That she would condone this.”

 

They both fell silent for a few long moments; the tea really was pretty disgusting, but Percival kept sipping at it, because if Newt said it helped with anxiety then he was willing to give it a shot.

 

“Well,” Newt finally said, and he was obviously deep in thought, tapping his fingertips on his thigh. “If we can’t take it to any one person, perhaps we should take it to everyone.”

 

“What, like release it on the internet? It would be written off as a hoax,” Percival pointed out, and Newt nodded.

 

“The internet isn’t the best place for it. Conspiracy theories are countless, and this one would likely fall through the cracks as just that. We need to make it…stand out.”

 

Percival shrugged. “If you have an idea, I’m all ears.”

 

Newt seemed to ponder this for a moment before he looked up at Percival. “How good is security on the television studios here in the states?” he asked, and Percival stared for a moment, and then started to laugh.

 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were suggesting that we hijack a television studio to broadcast the evidence,” he said, but Newt only raised his eyebrows, and Percival blinked in surprise. “Wow, Newt. You’re…actually serious? Is some of my recklessness finally rubbing off on you?”

 

Newt huffed. “All I’m saying is that it’s one thing to see a conspiracy theory when you’re scrolling on social media, and an entirely different thing to suddenly have your nightly television interrupted with a recording of the CIA director saying she approved the poisoning of an American city.”

 

Percival thought about it for a few long moments. It sounded crazy; infiltrating a television studio, hijacking as many channels as possible, broadcasting the pictures and audio all across the country, but…

 

It just might work. So much attention would be drawn to it that there would have to be some kind of investigation. The people in that village would get help, the public would want answers, and the CIA wouldn’t be able to hide behind badges and diplomacy.

 

If there was one thing that could change the tide of a losing fight, it was the outraged public. That was an all too well known fact.

 

If they could get the public on their side, they could win this.

 

“Newt, if I haven’t already told you, I’m telling you now; you’re a genius,” he said, and he set the tea down and pulled a surprised Newt into a firm, deep kiss. Newt laughed into the kiss and then returned it until they were both breathless, like teenagers who didn’t know how to breathe and kiss at the same time yet.

 

“I wouldn’t say I’m a genius. Just adjusting to your way of handling things,” he pointed out once they’d parted, and then he smirked a little. “With as little finesse as possible.”

 

“You make fun, but it’s an effective way of getting things done.”

 

“If you enjoy jumping out of helicopters,” Newt said, and then he held up a hand just as Percival opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t even start. It was _one bear_.”

 

Percival couldn’t help but laugh. “Someday I’ll let you off the hook for that, but that day is not today,” he teased, only to earn a shove in return.

 

“We should concentrate on how we’re going to do this,” Newt said, and he looked worried now. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t know the first thing about telecommunications. Could Credence help?”

 

“Probably,” Percival said, and he reached for his phone. If anyone knew how to hijack a television station and broadcast on as many channels possible, it would be Credence. He got up as he dialed the number, and impatiently paced across the room and waited as the phone rang three times before Credence picked up.

 

“Credence,” he said with relief. “Do you have a minute?”

 

“I’m kind of busy,” Credence said, and his voice sounded odd, a little too tense. “I can’t find my turtle. Did I leave him over at your place?”

 

Percival froze. Memories came rushing back, recent and not so much.

 

_-“You’ve got to pick a code word, Credence. Something that can indicate a compromised phone line, or a compromised safe house.”_

_“Turtle.”_

_“…really? Turtle?”_

_“Well, I’m not going to mention turtles in any normal capacity, usually. And if the safe house is compromised, I’ll just imply the turtle is at the safe house.”_

_“Whatever works for you, kid.”-_

 

The phone line was compromised.

 

And more importantly, _the safe house was compromised_.

 

Percival hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket. “Newt, we have to-“

 

He didn’t even get a chance to finish the sentence before there was a shattering of glass, and the room filled with smoke.

 

No, not smoke- Percival realized it when his throat spasmed and his lungs seized up when he took the first breath in. It was the sensation of eating a painfully hot pepper, except it burned his entire mouth, burned his eyes like it had been rubbed into them, and he coughed and staggered and resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

 

He could hear Newt coughing, and that was enough to get his wits about him again. Newt had never been tear gassed, likely had no idea what was going on, and Percival could hear footsteps, the heavy footsteps of agents who were likely wearing gas masks.

 

“Newt!” he yelled, but his voice was hoarse, and he heard a crash from somewhere in front of him, and he managed to force himself to stumble in that direction despite the pain in his face and chest. Every bit of exposed skin felt like it was burning, his nose was running, and his eyes were watering so badly that his vision was blurred.

 

Somehow, he found Newt at the same time the first agent found them both, the man just a black human shaped smear in the smoke. Newt was knelt by the couch, coughing, his eyes squeezed shut, and Percival’s vision cleared enough to see the agent lifting his gun to take the easy shot.

 

Percival lifted his gun faster, just from sheer instinct, and the agent dropped as a bullet tore through his gas mask and into his face.

 

Percival grabbed Newt’s arm and hauled him to his feet, trying to decide what to do. Newt was barely on his feet, rubbing at his eyes, unintentionally making it worse for himself; Percival didn’t know how many agents there were, but they were definitely outnumbered. They were up too high to make use of the windows as an escape, and even if they could, neither of them would be able to climb in their condition.

 

Percival was going to have to fight his way out with an incapacitated Newt in tow.

 

Another gunshot tore through the air, but luckily the agents were just as hampered by the white smoke, even if they didn’t have to deal with the pain of breathing it- for now. Percival was about to fix that.

 

“Stay put for one second!” he said to Newt, letting go of him despite a choked cry of protest from the blinded redhead, and he rushed forward, fighting down the urge to cough again. The agents were blurry shapes in the smoke, but Percival had the advantage of running on pure fury- they had hurt Newt. They would kill him, if they got the slightest chance.

 

He wouldn’t allow it.

 

The first agent he got to, he grabbed their gun hand and twisted in one violent movement until their wrist snapped, and then he took their gun. With his other hand, he grabbed the man’s gas mask and yanked it off, so the man’s gasps of agony made the effects of the tear gas even worse.

 

Percival didn’t hesitate. The next agent got two bullets to the chest. The third got a bullet to the shoulder, then the leg, and then his gas mask pulled off.

 

With the two liberated gas masks in hand, Percival clumsily made his way back over to where Newt waited, shaking, coughing into his hands, and he started and nearly elbowed Percival in the face when Percival grabbed onto him.

 

“It’s me,” Percival said, his voice raw as he fumbled to pull a gas mask on over Newt’s face. It wouldn’t help the damage already done, but it would make it easier for him to breathe.

 

He followed suit, pulling on the second gas mask himself and taking a deep breath of the filtered, clean air. They couldn’t waste time, though; more agents were almost certainly on their way. And just as he thought it, another gunshot went off, and the chair beside Newt jerked with the impact.

 

They couldn’t wait. Percival dragged Newt toward the doorway, pausing only to punch the agent there in the face, and then grab him and slam his head into the wall twice until he was limp. He dropped the man, took hold of Newt’s arm again, and led the way into the hallway, where the air was clearer with every step they took.

 

“Come on, fire escape,” he said, not liking the idea of being caught in a stairwell or elevator. He pulled the fire alarm as he passed it, just to ensure more chaos in their wake, and then he slammed into the fire escape door with his shoulder, dragging Newt into the cold evening air.

 

He ditched the gas mask and paused only long enough to tug Newt’s off as well; the cold wind would help more than the masks from here. Newt’s eyes were red-rimmed and he blinked rapidly, obviously still struggling to see; Percival could understand. The first few times he’d been hit by tear gas were hell.

 

It was still hell, just a hell he was used to. The pain was familiar, if unwelcome.

 

“I’ll lead you. Trust me,” he said at the uncertain look Newt gave the rickety metal staircase they were on. He started down, going slower than he would have liked until another gun went off and a bullet ricocheted off the railing beside him.

 

They couldn’t afford to be careful, or they would very quickly be dead.

 

He pulled Newt down the stairs and around the bend of the fire escape, and he slowed only to fire back at the man who’d fired at them; he missed, but at least it drove the agent to hide for a moment.

 

“P-Percival,” Newt managed, and his voice was choked, more of a gasp than anything. “I c-can’t see.”

 

“I know. You’re alright, just stay with me,” Percival said firmly as they reached the bottom of the fire escape. He looked both directions down the alley, but the sound of sirens and the flashing of police lights made his decision for him, coming from the direction of the front of the building.

 

He pulled Newt toward the back of the building, only to nearly run right into an agent who turned the corner- and who promptly punched him in the jaw. He stumbled back and let go of Newt’s hand, pain radiating through his jaw, but he looked up just in time to see Newt blindly sucker punch the agent, who’d obviously- and mistakenly- been unconcerned about a zoologist.

 

Of course, Newt was left cradling his fist, looking down at it like it had betrayed him.

 

“Not bad, but remind me to teach you how to actually punch before you break your hand on someone’s face,” Percival said with a wild grin, exhilarated by the chase. He made sure the agent was in fact down for the count before he pulled Newt along around the back of the building.

 

He didn’t stop until they had gone down a few more alleys, making twists and turns like it was a maze to try and throw off anyone who might have tried to follow.

 

“Here,” Percival said, and he pulled Newt to a stop by a building that had a water hose hanging on the back wall. “Bend over and turn your head to the side. Try to keep your eyes open.”

 

He angled the hose across Newt’s face and turned on the water, which was probably freezing cold, but it was better than leaving him to suffer. Newt flinched at first, but obviously the relief from the burning pain was easier to tolerate than the cold.

 

Percival did the same for himself after, running the water across his face until the pain was bearable. He straightened up and took a deep breath, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead; the pain in his jaw had faded to a dull ache, thanks to the agent’s poorly planned punch.

 

“Fuck,” he snapped, his stomach dropping somewhere into his feet as he realized just what had happened. “Fucking hell, Newt, we just lost _everything_. The evidence, the recording-“

 

Newt laughed. He actually _laughed_.

 

“Percival, you are never allowed to invoke my hugging of a bear ever again. You owe me.”

 

Percival blinked a few times, his brow furrowing with a frown. “What?”

 

Newt dug into his pocket, and then he held out his hand- and in it were both the flash drive and the voice recorder. Percival took both of them and inspected them for damage- from either the fight or flight- but they were perfectly intact, and he shoved them in his pocket and then promptly picked Newt up by the waist and spun him around in a circle.

 

“You are amazing,” he said, and he kissed Newt between nearly every word. “Amazing, perfect, genius, and I don’t fucking deserve you, Newt Scamander-“

 

Newt laughed as Percival set him down, and he pulled Percival into a breathless and slightly painful kiss, since both of them still had tear gas chemicals on them. But it was worth it; they’d managed to salvage what could have been a hopeless situation.

 

“If you say one more self-deprecating thing about being useless or unneeded in all of this, I’m going to remind you of this moment,” Percival said, his voice softer now. “And of that moment when you sucker punched a CIA agent.”

 

“I think I broke my hand, though.”

 

“It was worth it, though, wasn’t it?”

 

Newt smiled sheepishly. “Well…yeah, it kind of was.”

 

Percival took hold of Newt’s hand and inspected it carefully, though Newt winced at the touch. “It’s not broken,” Percival declared, lightly rubbing his thumb across the knuckles. “A little swollen, but nothing an ice pack can’t fix.”

 

Newt nodded. “Should we call Queenie?” he asked, and Percival shook his head.

 

“If the call with Credence was compromised, our phones aren’t safe to use anymore. We’ll need to find a different way to contact them,” he said. “Credence and Queenie probably went to the second safe house they had set up.”

 

“I saved the address,” Newt said, taking out his phone and opening up the notes app. He held it out to Percival, who memorized the address and nodded.

 

“That’s where we need to go. If they aren’t there, hopefully they’ve at least left a clue as to where they’ve gone instead,” he said, frowning with worry. “I hope Credence got out of his house alright. If the phones were compromised, they probably know that he and Queenie are in on this.”

 

He hoped that they were given away by calls being traced, or even by being followed. Either of those would be easier to swallow than the idea that Tina might have given their enemies any information.

 

He had faith in Tina; she wouldn’t give them up that easily.

 

“Come on. We need to put more distance between that apartment and us. They’ll spread the net pretty wide, now that we’ve really pissed them off,” he said, trying to take his mind off the unwelcome thoughts. They would find out where Tina was, and they would save her- and he would bet a million dollars that she hadn’t told Grindelwald a damn thing. That woman could be damn stubborn when she wanted to be; Percival would know that better than most, even with his limited memories.

 

He took Newt’s hand despite the fact that it wasn’t strictly necessary now; he couldn’t deny being the slightest bit shaken at the fact that Newt had been in mortal danger again. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was left thinking about how close they had come to being killed- the bullet that hit the chair was inches from hitting Newt. And the gunshot at the fire escape would have hit Percival, had it not ricocheted off the railing.

 

He was well aware that they were living on borrowed time and sheer luck at this point.

 

They found a taxi as soon as they got back to a main road- luckily, he and Newt had their wallets still, so they weren’t stranded- and they took the taxi to within a couple of blocks of the secondary safe house. It turned out to be a townhouse on a well-groomed street in downtown Washington D.C.- probably worth millions, were it on the market. It looked like your average upper class townhome, with blue siding, two floors, and a white picket fenced yard surrounding the well-manicured lawn.

 

For now, though, it was a safe haven for them, one they desperately needed. That was more important than any aesthetics.

 

It looked quiet and dark from the outside, but that didn’t really surprise him; if Queenie or Credence were there, they wouldn’t want to advertise that the home was occupied.

 

“Stay behind me. Be ready to run,” Percival said to Newt. He wanted to be prepared in case this place had been compromised as well. He walked up to the front door slowly, Newt following close behind, and after a brief hesitation to listen for sound from inside he knocked on the door.

 

For a few long moments, there was no answer- then the door cracked open, and Queenie glanced out.

 

“Oh, thank heavens!” she said, and she threw the door open wide and ushered them in, glancing over the street before she closed the door behind them. She pulled Percival into a hug first, then Newt, and then her nose wrinkled. “You two smell.”

 

Percival laughed. “Yeah, tear gas will do that to you,” he said, and Queenie reached up and tilted his face toward the light.

 

“Looks like you took a hit.”

 

“You should see the other guy. Turns out zoologists can throw a mean punch,” Percival said, and he tossed Newt a wink. Newt just blushed and shifted his weight awkwardly.

 

“He hit you. It was the first thing that came to mind,” he said with a sheepish shrug.

 

“Well, I’m so glad you both are alright. I didn’t get the chance to call and warn you, but Credence said he gave you the code word, and I was hoping you remembered,” Queenie said, and then she sighed. “Go get cleaned up, alright? I’ll make you some food. You’re probably famished.”

 

“Is Credence here?” Newt asked, and Queenie smiled.

 

“Yes. He made it out of his house about thirty seconds before they hit there. He was monitoring their text messages, and luckily one of them slipped up and broke code, otherwise none of us would have gotten any warning,” she explained.

 

“Good,” Percival said with a decisive nod. “Because we’re going to need his help to save Tina and end this whole mess for good.”


	16. Conservation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Credence, how difficult would it be to hijack a television studio if you had access to their broadcasting equipment?” Percival asked, and Credence’s eyes lit up.
> 
> “Oh. _Oh_ ,” he said, and now he looked downright excited, practically vibrating in the chair. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Because I really hope you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support, guys. I've had a rough few days, but I still love writing this up and seeing your feedback. It really makes my day brighter to know when I've written a decent chapter. <3
> 
> Four more chapters to go after this, and it's going to be one sucker punch after another, just sayin'. This is the last reprieve you get as readers. XD
> 
> Next chapter should go up Tuesday evening!

It only took one look at Credence for the memories to come rushing back. The young man was tall, probably taller than Percival or Newt if he would stand up straight, but he stood slouched and with his shoulders slumped. His hair was a haphazard, messy black mop atop his head, and his eyes were just as dark, though there was humor in them as he saw Percival step into the room.

 

“Wow, you smell like the last protest I went to,” he said, making a face as Percival just chuckled.

 

“Tear gas,” he said in explanation, and then his expression went more serious. “I’m glad you got out.”

 

That was an understatement. Credence had said it himself; he wasn’t a field agent. If they’d tear-gassed the house and busted in like they had at the safe house, Credence likely wouldn’t have stood a chance.

 

And if they took him in and put him through the usual paces, well…Credence didn’t have the same training in resisting interrogation that Tina and Percival had.

 

“Luckily they gave themselves away over an open radio channel,” Credence said with a shrug and a genuine, if small smile. “It’s good to see you back in one piece, Percival. I never believed that shit Grindelwald tried to force-feed us about you turning traitor. And…this must be Newt, right?”

 

Percival wrapped an arm possessively around Newt’s waist and tugged him closer to his side. “This is my boyfriend, Newt Scamander.”

 

And oh, it felt _good_ to say that. It felt even better when Newt did a double take at the title and then smiled and blushed, ducking his head as usual. “Nice to meet you, Credence. I can’t thank you enough for your help,” Newt said, making fleeting eye contact with Credence, who smiled a little wider.

 

“I should be thanking you. Queenie tells me you saved Percival’s life.”

 

“He did,” Percival said, before Newt could try and downplay it like he always did. “A couple of times now, actually. And he’s the one who came up with our next move to get this whole scandal blown wide open.”

 

“Clean yourselves up first,” Queenie said with a pointed look from the kitchen doorway. “There’s extra clothes upstairs. Scrub your skin wherever the tear gas got on it, and just trash the clothes you’re wearing. It’s not worth the effort to try and clean them. That stuff sticks like crazy.”

 

And Percival wasn’t about to argue with that. His skin and eyes were still burning, his throat felt raw, and his lungs ached; Newt couldn’t feel much better. “Alright. Come on, Newt, let’s get this stuff off of us, then we can eat something while we explain this to Credence and Queenie,” Percival said; he hadn’t eaten since the day before, and he knew that Newt hadn’t either. Now that the adrenaline rush was starting to wear off, the hunger was setting in.

 

Percival let go of Newt’s waist but grabbed his hand and led him upstairs; they found clothes set aside in one of the master bedrooms, and there was an attached bathroom with a rather large shower that gave Percival a rather filthy idea.

 

“I say we save water and help the environment by sharing the shower,” Percival said, pulling Newt into the bathroom and tugging him into a kiss. Newt laughed into it even as he returned the kiss.

 

“Since when were you so interested in conservation?” he teased, though even as he said it he was starting to unbutton Percival’s shirt. And maybe it was the lingering effects of the adrenaline rush, or the relief of having gotten away without serious injury to either of them, but either way, Percival couldn’t think of anything better than this right now.

 

“If it gets you into the shower with me, I’ll support any kind of conservation you want,” he said with a smirk, and Newt gave him a long-suffering look.

 

“You’re awful.”

 

“And yet you’re still undressing me.”

 

“You’re awful and attractive.”

 

“That’s more like it,” Percival said, and he shrugged his shirt off and started working on Newt’s. From there it didn’t take long until they were both stripped naked, and Percival pulled away only long enough to turn on the shower and get it to the right temperature.

 

Despite the fact that they were both ridiculously turned on, the first order of business was using a washcloth to scrub at any skin that had been exposed to the tear gas; otherwise the chemical would just stick unbearably. But once done with that, Percival wasted no time in pushing Newt back against the wall of the shower and dropping to his knees in front of him, mindless of the hot water coursing over him.

 

It had been so long since they’d had any time alone that Percival knew neither of them would last long, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t waste any time before he took Newt in hand and stroked him a few times, base to tip, and he smirked at the _thud_ he heard when Newt’s head dropped back against the wall of the shower.

 

“Queenie and Credence are downstairs; might want to try and be quiet,” he said, his voice low but amused; he knew how hard it was for Newt to stay quiet for this. It wasn’t like they’d had to worry about him being vocal at the cabin, but now he watched as Newt nodded and bit his lip.

 

He took Newt into his mouth and all the way down in one rough swallow, his throat spasming around the thick weight of his cock, and Newt let out a barely stifled shout of pleasure. His hands tangled in Percival’s wet hair, only encouraging him as he pulled back, dragging his tongue along Newt’s arousal.

 

“Percival,” Newt gasped above him, the name coming out like a prayer, like benediction, and Percival reached down to stroke himself firmly as he took Newt’s cock all the way down again with practiced ease. He loved this; he loved feeling Newt’s hands tug at his hair, loved watching as Newt came apart because of him.

 

He started a slow rhythm, pulling back and swirling his tongue around the head before hollowing his cheeks and sucking Newt back down, and Newt was rocking his hips, clutching at Percival’s hair a bit tighter now. Those green eyes were blown with arousal as he looked down at Percival, and Percival’s hand quickened on his own cock, the feeling already building to a near peak in him.

 

Newt tugged at his hair, but this time in the other direction, and that along with the desperate whine torn from his throat was enough warning. Percival sucked him down again, fighting his gag reflex to take him all the way in once more, and Newt let out a shuddering cry of pleasure as he spurted his release into Percival’s throat.

 

It was enough to send Percival careening over the edge himself, spilling over his own hand and the floor of the shower as he swallowed down every drop.

 

The water had gone lukewarm and was quickly cooling, but Percival stood and pulled Newt into another kiss, this one lazy and satisfied. Newt looked flushed and dazed, and Percival smiled into the kiss.

 

“See? Water conservation at its best,” he said, and Newt laughed breathlessly.

 

Once they were both clean and dressed Percival followed Newt downstairs to the kitchen, where the smell of food cooking was enough to make him nearly groan. Queenie looked over her shoulder as they entered and smiled, though Percival could see the strain in her expression; she was obviously worried about her sister, and doing her best to hide it.

 

“How does grilled chicken and vegetables sound?” she asked, her voice as perky as ever. “And I have a strudel in the oven for dessert.”

 

“This woman is a saint,” Credence said from where he sat at one end of the kitchen table. He had two different laptops set up and what looked like a couple of routers, though Percival had the feeling they were much more than normal routers.

 

After all, when one was on the run from the CIA, it wasn’t a simple matter of just surfing the web freely.

 

“It sounds fantastic, Queenie, thank you,” Newt said as he took a seat at the table. Percival sat in between Credence and Newt and took a look at the laptop screens, which seemed to be some kind of official documents on one, and a fast scrolling social media chat page on the other.

 

“What are you up to?” he asked, and Credence sat back in his chair, pausing in his rapid fire typing.

 

“I’m still able to get into the CIA archives; they shut off my official access, but I’d created a back door, and they haven’t found it yet. I’m downloading everything I possibly can before they find out they’re not secure,” he said, and then he pointed to the other screen. “This chat room is in the deep web, it’s for government watchdogs. We get a lot of conspiracy theorists on here, but this is where the real magic can happen. A good amount of the scandals that get uncovered get their start here. Too slow a process for our situation, but I’m keeping an eye on things anyway, see if any other actual insiders pop in.”

 

“Other CIA agents get on there?” Percival asked with a raised eyebrow, and Credence grinned.

 

“Yep. At least two others feed info to people on here. Nothing that would compromise national security, just local stuff, helping protesters, that kind of thing. They know I’m in here, too, but only by my username; I have some cred here though.”

 

“That actually might come in handy,” Percival said. “But first, have you tracked down where they have Tina?”

 

Queenie had been setting the table, but she paused when she heard that, looking at Credence with both hope and nervousness.

 

“I think so. I found where Grindelwald took two other CIA agents who were suspected of treason but he had no official proof on them to detain them; no reason to think he’d take her to a different place,” Credence said, and he leaned forward and pulled up a different document. “They can’t just take her to a jail and dump her off, or even a federal prison. Too many questions, too much of a paper trail. He takes them to his house.”

 

“His house?” Newt repeated in disbelief, and Credence shrugged.

 

“Makes sense. He’s a control freak. Having them under his roof with his hand picked agents is the ultimate control over them,” he pointed out. “The good news is that it’s a pretty isolated mansion outside the city. The bad news is…well, it’s a pretty isolated mansion outside the city.”

 

Percival sighed. “So we don’t have to worry about civilians, or about police getting called in, but we’re entirely on our own.”

 

“Yeah. So, if you screw up, that’s it. Game over.”

 

“We have to go get her out of there,” Newt said, his voice quiet but firm. “We would never have gotten this far in the first place, were it not for her.”

 

“She wouldn’t want you to risk yourselves for her, but…I’m sure not gonna stop you. She’s my sister,” Queenie said with a smile that came off weak, but Percival returned it anyway.

 

“Don’t worry, Queenie. First thing tomorrow, we’re getting Tina out of there. Then we’ll move on to the next and hopefully last phase of the plan.”

 

Credence raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “So, what is the ‘next and last’ phase? Don’t leave me hanging here, boss,” he said, ignoring the eye roll he got at calling Percival ‘boss’ again.

 

“Credence, how difficult would it be to hijack a television studio if you had access to their broadcasting equipment?” Percival asked, and Credence’s eyes lit up.

 

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” he said, and now he looked downright excited, practically vibrating in the chair. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Because I _really_ hope you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

 

“We have visual and audio proof of Grindelwald’s and Picquery’s crimes,” Newt explained, and Percival dug in his pocket and pulled out the flash drive and the voice recorder, handing them over to Credence. “And we need to air it live on as many television channels as we possibly can, as widespread as we can.”

 

“How about every broadcast, digital, satellite, and AM/FM radio channel in the country?”

 

For a moment, Percival and Newt just stared at him, as if waiting for the punch line. Credence’s smile widened. “I’m serious!” he insisted, and Percival looked to Newt, then back to Credence.

 

“ _How_?”

 

“The EAS. The Emergency Alert System,” Credence said, as if it were common sense. “That system is set up to broadcast on every possible avenue of communication. It’s for serious emergencies- like, nuclear war level emergencies, that sort of thing. It’s been hacked before, but only on a local level, by people who think zombie alerts are funny- which, I mean, they kind of _are_ , but still-“

 

“Can it be done?” Newt asked. “On a national level?”

 

“I can hack anything. The question is how fast I can figure out how to do it,” Credence said, already pulling up a different site on his laptop and starting to type. Queenie literally leaned in and smacked his hand, and then set a plate of food between the laptops.

 

“You’re going to eat first, young man. Hacking can come after you’ve had your dinner. You haven’t eaten all day,” she said, and then she set plates in front of Newt and Percival, and then one for herself. “And you two had best clear your plates. God only knows how long its been since your last good meal. You agents are so bad at self-care, it’s a wonder that department isn’t in shambles. Tina eats a hot dog for lunch sometimes. One hot dog. It’s downright unhealthy.”

 

“I’m not an agent,” Newt murmured, and Queenie gave him a look.

 

“You might as well be, for all the death defying stunts and chases you’ve been doing lately,” she said, and she pointed to their food with her fork. “ _Eat_.”

 

None of them were about to deliberately upset Queenie; she wanted them to eat their dinner, and that was what they did. Not that it was a hardship- the food was downright delicious, especially after days of just snacking here and there to get by.

 

Though Percival did sort of miss the whole hunter-gatherer feel of pulling fish off the lines, preparing them, and then combining that with berries and plants that he and Newt had scavenged themselves. There was something primal and satisfying about the whole process, even if he’d been dubious at first.

 

He hoped they could return to that, someday. The thought surprised him; after all, he knew he had a place here, in the city, that this was where he’d always belonged, but he found himself wondering if he couldn’t convince Newt to spend winters here and then go with him to Alaska every summer.

 

He shouldn’t be thinking of it. After all, they might not make it out of this alive. And even if they did, what then? Were he and Newt compatible outside of this crazy situation? Could they compromise in a way that would make them both happy?

 

He hoped so. God, he hoped so. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with the man sitting beside him.

 

After the meal and the strudel, Queenie insisted that Newt and Percival get some sleep. They had been through a lot today, she pointed out, and she was right; Percival was dead tired on his feet, and he knew Newt had to feel much the same. He was pretty sure that both of them were out within a minute of lying down for the night once they made their way upstairs.

 

Percival woke up before Newt, the gray light of early sunrise coming in through the window. He was rarely up before Newt when they were up north, and he took the opportunity to watch him sleep for a few minutes, relishing the way the tension was gone from him like this. There was no worry on his face, no stress, and Percival gently brushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead.

 

“I absolutely adore you,” he whispered, and he leaned forward to press a feather light kiss to Newt’s forehead. Newt shifted a bit in his sleep but didn’t wake, and Percival carefully slid out of bed and headed downstairs.

 

To his surprise, Credence was sitting at the kitchen table, the sound of typing the only sound in the dimly lit room. There were dark circles under Credence’s eyes, and there were three cans of Red Bull sitting beside the laptops.

 

“Have you been up all night?” he asked in surprise, and Credence looked up at him with a bit of a manic smile- he was obviously wired on caffeine.

 

“Hell, yeah. You gave me a challenge, and I aim to please,” he said, and Percival pulled a chair up closer to Credence and sat down. He didn’t have any idea what the programs on the screen were, but it all looked rather complicated.

 

“So you can hack it?”

 

“Yes, and no,” Credence said. “Bad news is, I can’t hack it from the outside. Not to the extent we need to. Good news is that you get to pull some more of your James Bond moves to make this work.”

 

He held out a can of Red Bull to Percival, but Percival waved him off. Credence shrugged and took a swig of it before setting it aside again.

 

“So, how is this going to work?” Percival asked, and Credence nodded toward the screens.

 

“I’ve created a program using the files you gave me. And I’m working on an automated line of coding that, when activated, will trigger the Emergency Alert System,” he explained. “Thing is, it has to be done from a reputable source. We’re not talking just any television studio. In order to bypass the latent security in the system, we need to go all the way to the top.”

 

“And what’s the top?”

 

Credence took a deep breath and let it out in a rush of air. “You’re going to need to get to the broadcasting equipment in CNN headquarters downtown, use a flash drive to put this program in their system, and then activate it.”

 

Percival sat back in his chair with a sigh. It had been one thing to try and plan walking into a normal television studio and broadcasting this- but CNN? That was a much higher risk.

 

“Well, we did sneak into CIA headquarters,” he finally said. “If we can sneak in there, we can find a way to get into CNN.”

 

“That’s the spirit,” Credence said, clapping his hand on Percival’s shoulder. “Listen, I’ll work on this all day while you’re jail breaking Tina. I’m going to fine tune this program as best I can, but best-case scenario, you’ll still have to get the flash drive in their computer system, install the program, and activate it. I’ll compress it as efficiently as I can to make installation run fast, but you can still expect about a minute of keeping people clear of what you’re doing.”

 

Percival nodded. “We’ll get it done. You do your best,” he said, and he managed a smile at Credence. “And…thank you. I know you gave up a lot and put yourself in a lot of danger to make this happen.”

 

“It’s my pleasure, seriously. I’m going to throw a party when I see Grindelwald in handcuffs,” Credence said, and then he pointed to the other screen, where the chat box still scrolled. “And I’ll put out the word that everyone should have their television on and ready to record tomorrow evening. You’ll have the best of the best in whistleblowers at your back. There’s no way they’ll be able to bury this.”

 

“Well, I’ll let Newt know when he wakes up, and then we’ll go get Tina,” Percival said, and he stood up to get some coffee set to brew; he would need it for what they had to do today.

 

“You know Grindelwald is going to have his best guys at that house if he’s holding her there,” Credence said. “And they all know you. They know how you work.”

 

“No,” Percival said, and he smiled knowingly. “They knew me before. They don’t know me now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i fully support creative water conservation, just sayin')


	17. Traps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You sound like you have an idea,” Percival said, not without trepidation. Sure, Newt’s ideas had panned out well many times before, but this situation was going to be like walking on a high wire as it was.
> 
> “I do,” Newt said, and then he hesitated, glancing at Percival for only a moment before turning his gaze back to the front. “Though, I…would appreciate it if, once you’re reinstated to your job in federal law enforcement, if you wouldn’t, well…arrest me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, thank you so much to all reviewers; you make my days brighter, and sometimes you make me burst out laughing when I check my phone at work but it's okay because my employees already think I'm odd.
> 
> I'm going to attempt to get the next chapter up tomorrow, which will be pushing it, but it's near necessary for...pacing of the next few chapters paired with my busy work schedule. That's all I can say on that. I'll do my best. <3

They wait until after Grindelwald would have left for work for the day; one less risk to worry about on a day that would inevitably be fraught with it. There was no point in making it more dangerous than it had to be.

 

It was already going to be dangerous enough, and they didn’t have Tina along to help out this time.

 

“There’s only two of us, and you’re the only one who actually knows how to…well, fight, really,” Newt pointed out once they’d gotten into the car- yet another mysterious car that Queenie had procured for them. (Percival had asked her where she kept getting these cars with untraceable plates, and she’d just winked and told him “A lady needs to keep some of her secrets,” which didn’t exactly sate his curiosity. But then she’d loaded up a plate with scrambled eggs and bacon, and really, if there was a fast route to distract him from the line of questioning, that was it right there.)

 

“You sound like you have an idea,” Percival said, not without trepidation. Sure, Newt’s ideas had panned out well many times before, but this situation was going to be like walking on a high wire as it was.

 

“I do,” Newt said, and then he hesitated, glancing at Percival for only a moment before turning his gaze back to the front. “Though, I…would appreciate it if, once you’re reinstated to your job in federal law enforcement, if you wouldn’t, well…arrest me.”

 

Percival’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, and though he had been about to pull away from the curb, he instead threw the car back into park and turned his upper body to face Newt. “Come again?”

 

Newt’s cheeks were an attractive shade of red, and he shifted in his seat. “Well, you see, the second year I was in Alaska, I had quite a bit of trouble with three poachers who were tracking the wolf pack I was studying,” he started to explain, and though Percival had no idea what this could possibly have to do with their task for today, he gestured for Newt to continue.

 

After all, it wasn’t every day your boyfriend opened up a conversation with ‘please don’t arrest me when you get your badge back’.

 

“I figured that the more I knew, the better I could counter what they were doing. So I learned how they worked, how they made their traps, how they set them- everything. And when they didn’t respond favorably to my polite requests that they leave the area, I…might have moved their non-lethal traps to ensure that they would be caught in them instead of the wolves. None of them died, mind you, but injuries were…unfortunately unavoidable.”

 

Percival couldn’t help it; he laughed. He laughed harder than he had in a long time, and Newt gave him a startled look.

 

“I just admitted to felony assault, what in the world is so funny?” he asked, and Percival had to catch his breath, holding up a hand to signal for Newt to give him a second.

 

“You,” he started, and he laughed again and had to compose himself. “You caught poachers in their own traps so they would leave a pack of wolves alone?”

 

Newt’s face was red all the way to his ears now. “Put simply, yes. And they did leave, so it wasn’t entirely a wasted effort.”

 

Percival leaned across the gap between the seats and pulled Newt into a firm but quick kiss. “I’m not going to have you arrested for it. If I had my way, you would get a fucking medal,” he said once they’d parted. “But I’m still not sure what this has to do with getting Tina out of that house.”

 

“Well, in the pictures Credence showed us, I noticed that the house is surrounded by rather thick trees. No doubt to provide a buffer between his house and the roads and other houses, but…the trees are thick enough that I could have a lot of space to work with to set some traps,” Newt explained with a shrug. “If they’re busy trying to pick their way through the trees to catch me, and getting trapped doing it, that means they aren’t in the house going after you.”

 

Percival shook his head; his first response was a visceral dread at the idea of splitting up from Newt when they were up against trained agents. “I’m not leaving you on your own with these people,” he said, and Newt gave him a look.

 

“You know as well as I do that it will be impossible to sneak in there the traditional way. We need a distraction, which means that either way, we’re splitting up. I can cause a ruckus in the trees on the west side, and you can go in on the east side, in the sun room entrance Credence showed us,” he said, and Percival wanted to curse. He wanted to refuse, wanted to keep Newt by his side for all of this, be able to protect him if things went wrong.

 

But Newt was infuriatingly right. The only way of doing this with minimal risk was to employ a distraction, and Percival would rather have Newt on the outside than trying to sneak in, where he would be confined in hallways and rooms with few to no escape routes.

 

He sighed and put the car into drive again, and then pulled away from the curb. “What do you need for your traps?” he asked, and Newt nodded once.

 

“Swing by a hardware store.”

 

And that was how Percival found himself in the aisle at Lowe’s, with Newt excitedly discussing the mechanism of a snare trap and how to alter it to best trap a human foot and Percival trying to tell the hapless employee that wandered by that no, they weren’t planning on actually trapping people at random, it was actually for a prank on a friend.

 

The employee didn’t seem entirely convinced, but it seemed he wasn’t about to hang around and irritate two people who might be serial killers discussing tactics on trapping their victims.

 

They managed to buy the supplies without further incident, and Percival drove the rest of the way there with Newt in the backseat, tying knots and getting the ropes, tent stakes, wires, and chains ready. Meanwhile, Percival said a brief prayer to whatever gods might be listening that they wouldn’t get pulled over and have to try and explain this off to a cop as some kind of really kinky BDSM setup.

 

Fortunately, they made it to their preplanned spot about a half mile from the house, and Percival pulled off the road onto a dirt driveway, and from there into the trees where the car wouldn’t be seen from the road or from any of the houses.

 

“Alright,” Newt said, swinging loops of rope over his shoulder as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. Percival followed suit, watching as Newt gathered up the rest of the traps he’d made, which looked like a complete mess to Percival- but if Newt said they worked, he believed him.

 

“I’ll stay in the trees and get all of these set up,” Newt continued. “When you hear the eagle call, that’s your signal to get ready to move in.”

 

Percival nodded. He didn’t need a reminder of what an eagle call sounded like; he’d been around so many of them up north that it was actually stranger to be in a place where he wasn’t hearing them all the time.

 

“Don’t get too close to the edge of the trees. And once you’ve drawn enough attention, get out of there. If they see you, they will shoot you,” he said to Newt. “Make sure you’re not followed, and go straight back here. I’ll meet you when I have Tina. If I don’t show up here after twenty minutes, get somewhere safe and call Queenie.”

 

“Okay,” Newt said, and he leaned forward and kissed Percival lightly. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

And he sounded so confident, so sure of it, that it was nearly contagious. Percival smiled and pulled him back into one more kiss before he made sure he had his weapons, and made his way into the trees.

 

He gave the mansion a wide berth as he moved quietly through the trees, making his way to the opposite side from where Newt would be causing a fuss. He hoped Newt would do exactly as he’d said, and flee at the first sign of trouble; these agents hadn’t gotten where they were by being poor shots.

 

Then again, Newt had evidently spent a summer pissing off poachers who shot things for a living- perhaps he was better suited for this than Percival first thought.

 

Once he got into position, he watched the house carefully. He could see two men loitering near the front, and one near the sunroom entrance; through the windows he saw flickers of movement as well.

 

He would need to be careful once he got inside. The outside would be clear if all went well, but he couldn’t make too much noise once he was inside the house, or he would bring the whole place down on his head. Credence had told him the first place to check should be the basement level, as they probably wouldn’t keep a captive in a room that had a window.

 

Inside, take the first stairs he found to the basement, get Tina, and get out. That was the best case scenario.

 

He knew it would be a bit of a wait, so he wasn’t surprised when he had to wait another twenty minutes before he heard the distinct, loud call of an eagle- or rather, Newt doing a very convincing impersonation of an eagle. He moved closer to the tree line, and then he heard voices from the house- and he saw the two men by the front door pull their guns and move toward the trees on the other side of the house.

 

Not long after they reached the trees, there was a snap and a startled scream, and the guard by the sunroom entrance pulled his gun and jogged away to investigate.

 

Percival took the chance, and he kept low as he left the trees and sprinted over to the door. It was when he opened it that he heard the first gunshot, and he flinched and had to remind himself that just because they were shooting didn’t mean they actually hit Newt. More likely than not, they were trying to intimidate or startle their unseen visitor.

 

He had to trust that Newt could handle it on his own. If he tried to go to his rescue, saving Tina would be impossible.

 

He slipped inside and closed the door behind him, and then quickly moved to the next door, so he wasn’t in a room that was so exposed to the outside. He found himself in a long hallway, and he moved slowly, listening for any footsteps or voices.

 

It wasn’t long before he heard them. But they were all moving in the opposite direction from him, toward the side of the house where Newt’s traps were obviously the priority concern.

 

He checked the rooms as he went by, but most of them were the hallmark ‘spare rooms’ of houses this big- extra bedrooms, bathrooms, guest rooms, and-

 

-an office. He paused, took a look down the hallway, and then ducked inside.

 

He knew he didn’t have much time to spare, if any. All the same, he went straight to the laptop that sat open on the desk, and found that when he shook the mouse it came to life out of sleep mode.

 

It turned out that Grindelwald wasn’t too worried about security on his home computer.

 

Most of the files he came across weren’t anything important, until he came across one that was called ‘Project 13-B Timeline’. He recognized the names of some of the symptoms, the coordinates for different water supply lines and wells, and then he found a list of dates.

 

A date months ago was listed next to Phase One, a date a few weeks ago was listed beside Phase Two- and beside Phase Three was listed a date that was only two days from now. And all at once, Percival recalled a memory from the helicopter, one he hadn’t entirely understood the first time he remembered it.

 

_-“You’re going to kill those people!”_

_“Not if we only do the first two phases.”-_

 

Percival took in a sharp breath, and he scrolled back up to the symptom list. Phase Three was listed with a list including ‘blindness, seizures, and organ failure’.

 

Evidently, Grindelwald had never planned to restrict the test to the first two phases of dosages. If they failed to stop this tomorrow, people were going to die.

 

It was a sobering thought, and it reminded him how much weight was on their shoulders.

 

The door suddenly opened, and the man in the doorway stared in shock for a beat too long before fumbling for his gun; by then Percival was on his feet, and he punched the man, then grabbed him in a headlock and held him just tight enough to cut off his air until the agent went limp in his grasp. He looked around for a moment, then ripped the decorative golden ropes off the American flag standing behind the desk and used those to tie the agent’s hands behind him.

 

He took the man’s gun, then dragged his unconscious body to the closet in the office and shoved him in, closing the door behind him. He really needed to get moving, now.

 

It was time to find Tina and get the hell out.

 

He stepped into the hallway again, this time moving with more urgency. He heard a yell from outside and a couple more gunshots, and he winced but kept looking; two more doors, and he found the stairs. He took them down two at a time and paused at the bottom, in some kind of rec room.

 

There were three rooms off the rec room, and only one had light coming from under the door.

 

He didn’t waste time being cautious. He went straight to that door and opened it up, taking in the situation immediately. Tina was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, bound and battered, and an agent stood in front of her- he looked up in surprise at Percival’s entrance, but one well placed punch sent him to the floor, unconscious.

 

“Are you alright?” Percival asked as he turned to start untying Tina, and she laughed breathlessly- a good sign.

 

“Yeah. They just knocked me around a little; said they were ‘warming me up’ for Grindelwald tonight, but you and Newt have distracted him. He’s on the warpath that you two are still on the loose,” she said, moving her freed hand to her face and feeling the rapidly forming bruise there. “Where _is_ Newt?”

 

“Outside distracting the guards,” Percival said, and Tina’s eyebrows both arched high in disbelief. “I’ll explain later. Let’s get you out of here,” he added as he freed her other hand. She stood and winced, and Percival gave her a look.

 

“Asshole kicked me in the knee,” she complained, and then she shook her head. “It’s fine. Nothing’s broken, let’s get out of here.”

 

She limped at first, but seemed to get a bit better as they made their way out of the room and up the stairs. Percival couldn’t hear any gunshots- but that could be a good thing, or a very bad thing.

 

“Come on. We’re meeting Newt at the car,” he said, pulling her down the hallway toward the sunroom.

 

Unfortunately, about the time they got there, the sunroom guard had returned to his post, and he raised his gun and fired through the glass door at them.

 

Luckily he missed, though not by much, and Percival pulled his gun and returned fire; when the agent had ducked out of the way, Percival shoved the door open and stepped through. He turned and shot the man before he could fire again, and he heard yelling quickly coming closer.

 

He sprinted for the tree line, Tina close at his back, and didn’t even slow when they reached the trees. It seemed that there had been enough confusion and the guards were so spread out thanks to Newt’s distractions that Percival and Tina were able to lose any pursuers rather quickly, and he led the way around the house in a wide circle through the woods.

 

Once they were far enough from the mansion, Percival explained everything that had happened; he explained Grindelwald’s plot, Picquery’s treason, and all the evidence they had collected against the pair. When he started to explain the plan to her, she gave him an incredulous look.

 

“Do you really think this will work?” she asked, and Percival snorted.

 

“You mean, do I think that Credence can hack that system, or do I think that it will actually end up with Grindelwald and Picquery being held accountable?”

 

“Both.”

 

“Credence can do it,” Percival said with missing a beat. He believed without a doubt that Credence could hack into that system and make this work. “As to whether or not it will work, well...it’s the only route we have left to take. We have to try.”

 

“I’m there,” Tina said with a decisive nod. “If this is what you think is best, I’m behind you, all the way.”

 

“Are you up for it?”

 

Tina gave him a glare. “They beat me up, they didn’t break my legs. I am more than up for bringing the house down on these bastards.”

 

The car came into view, and Percival felt his heart start beating faster. He had a momentary waking nightmare that he would get to the car and that Newt wouldn’t be there, that he would be lying dead in the woods somewhere-

 

But then he saw the figure leaning against the back of the car, and his heart leapt.

 

“Newt,” he said in sheer relief, and he broke into a run. Newt spotted him with Tina and smiled brightly, and by then Percival was yanking him into a tight hug, so tight that when Newt laughed it was breathless from how tight Percival was squeezing him.

 

“Tina, I’m glad you’re okay,” Newt said, and Tina smiled.

 

“You too. I was worried,” she said, and then she looked him over with a confused stare- probably because he was smeared all over with mud and dirt and had leaves and twigs in his hair. “How exactly did you distract a bunch of CIA agents?”

 

“Poacher traps and strange animal noises,” Newt said with a grin. “I think two of them are still trying to figure out how to get their friend out of a tree.”

 

“Come on, you two. Let’s get out of here before they widen their search net,” Percival suggested, and he got in the car. Newt got in the passenger seat and Tina slid into the back, and then she froze, her eyes locked on the leftover ropes and chains laying in the backseat.

 

“…please tell me those were for the traps,” she said, and Percival just laughed and left her to her imagination.

 

The team was back together, and it was time to finish this.


	18. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll tell you what,” he continued after a moment. “Remember that night we watched the Northern Lights? After you dragged me into the middle of the bear version of Times Square?”
> 
> Newt laughed and nodded. “I remember. Of course I remember.”
> 
> “Well, we’re going to do that again. Next summer,” Percival insisted, setting his forehead against Newt’s. “I promise. We’ll go see Pakak again, we’ll kick some poachers off the damn continent, and we’ll find some whales for you to pet, if that’s what you want. We’ll do it all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All reviewers and kudos-ers get digital cookies and gold stars <3
> 
> Next chapter will probably go up Friday evening!

They had been planning to wait until the next day to intercept the broadcast and get this over and done with, but in light of the new information they had, they all agreed that it couldn’t wait. There were only two days left, and the sooner the whole situation was exposed, the sooner someone could act to get that water supply cleansed.

 

When they got back to the townhouse Credence was asleep at the table, his head pillowed on his arms in front of the laptops. Percival felt bad for waking him, but Credence really needed to sleep in a bed anyway, or he would end up with one hell of a neck cramp.

 

“Credence,” he said softly, and the younger man snapped awake immediately with a confused sound that turned into a glare. Percival chuckled. “Sorry, sleeping beauty, but we were wondering how that program is coming.”

 

“It’s done,” Credence said, his voice still thick with sleep as he held up a flash drive. “Put it in one of the computers in their central broadcasting room, let it run, and when it fully installs, click the prompt to activate it.”

 

Percival took the flash drive and just looked at it for a moment, and it struck him how important this was; he held the lives of dozens of people in his hand.

 

If he failed, they would die.

 

He put the flash drive away in his pocket, shaking off the thoughts for now. Getting philosophical wasn’t going to do any good right now. “Good. We’re doing it tonight. Right now,” he said, and if Credence hadn’t been fully awake before, he sure was now.

 

“Wait, what? Tonight? Why?”

 

“If Grindelwald’s plan is allowed to go any further, people will die,” Newt said, Percival having explained the whole thing to him and Tina on the way here. “We can’t afford to waste any time.”

 

Credence sighed and turned back to his computer and started to type. “You three are going to be the death of me, I swear it. I’m too young to die of stress. This is like having three kids who like to jump out of planes with broken parachutes for fun,” he complained. “I’ll give our watchdogs the update to keep their televisions on.”

 

Percival was about to respond when Queenie stepped in the room and promptly bowled past him, practically tackling her sister in a tight hug. Percival stepped back to give the sisters their moment; he wasn’t about to interrupt when Queenie had been so worried about Tina.

 

“”I’m so glad you’re okay,” Queenie finally said when she stepped back, wiping away tears with one hand, and Tina smiled.

 

“Stop that, you’re going to get me started crying,” she complained, drawing a laugh from Queenie.

 

“I got the three of you some clothes to blend in at the studio tomorrow,” Queenie said, and Percival cleared his throat.

 

“Actually, tonight,” he said, and Queenie’s eyes widened.

 

“Tonight? But…you just got back.”

 

“We have to. We can’t afford to wait,” Percival insisted, and then he took hold of Newt’s hand and nodded to Tina. “We’ll get ready and meet you back down here.”

 

Newt certainly didn’t object as Percival led him upstairs and into their temporary bedroom, where Queenie had business casual clothes sitting folded on the dresser, pressed and waiting for their return.

 

Newt started to reach for the clothes, but Percival tugged him back and pulled him in close, and he set his hands on Newt’s waist. “Hold on a second,” he said, and then he kissed Newt, slow and deep and taking his time despite the urgency of the moment.

 

Newt was flushed when they finally parted. “What was that for?” he asked, though he was smiling through the words, and Percival kissed him again, just a light peck.

 

“Oh, just about to leave on a mission to save a bunch of lives and bring down the acting heads of the CIA. Just felt like we could take a moment for us,” Percival said with a sly smile, his grip tightening on Newt just a little. “I want you to be careful today. We shouldn’t run into any real trouble, but…still.”

 

“You know I’ll be careful,” Newt said softly. “I’m more worried about you, to be honest.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Percival said, but Newt didn’t look convinced. Percival considered for a moment, and then reached up and brushed his thumb across Newt’s cheek fondly, his heart skipping a beat at the way the redhead leaned into his touch.

 

“I’ll tell you what,” he continued after a moment. “Remember that night we watched the Northern Lights? After you dragged me into the middle of the bear version of Times Square?”

 

Newt laughed and nodded. “I remember. Of course I remember.”

 

“Well, we’re going to do that again. Next summer,” Percival insisted, setting his forehead against Newt’s. “I promise. We’ll go see Pakak again, we’ll kick some poachers off the damn continent, and we’ll find some whales for you to pet, if that’s what you want. We’ll do it all.”

 

Newt looked more amused than anything else. “That’s a lot of promises, Mr. Graves,” he pointed out, and Percival kissed him again.

 

“I’ll keep every last one of them, Mr. Scamander.”

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

“Alright. The key to this is confidence,” Percival said as they parked down the street from CNN headquarters later that evening. He was mainly speaking to Newt, but he just acted as if he were talking to both of them so Newt wouldn’t feel like he was getting lectured. “If we act like we’re meant to be there, they’ll believe we’re meant to be there.”

 

“Do you know where to go once we’re inside?” Newt asked, and Percival nodded.

 

“Credence showed me the layout of the building. Just follow my lead. If anyone asks, we’re there to meet with one of their reporters for an exposé about the CIA,” he said with a smirk.

 

It wasn’t _completely_ a lie, after all.

 

They got out of the car, and Percival immediately checked around them to make sure they hadn’t been tailed; but he didn’t see anyone or anything suspicious. He nodded to Tina, and she nodded back, the silent signal that she was ready to move.

 

With one more look down the street, Percival started toward the doors of the station, followed by Newt and Tina. And true to his word, when they got to the door, he walked right up to the reception desk and signed the visitors’ log with three fake names.

 

It was too easy to get past the desk when all he had to do was smirk and wink at the pretty brunette behind the counter to make it seem like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, and not planning to take over their broadcasting.

 

Now came the tough part, though.

 

They got into the elevator and picked the fifth floor, where the main studio was, along with the control room where all the major broadcasting equipment was. The doors opened on a flurry of activity; people in business casual carrying papers back and forth, on their phones, and Percival nodded to Newt to reassure him before he stepped out of the elevator and led the way to the main studio, which was attached to the broadcasting control room.

 

The second they stepped through into the studio, their presence was no longer overlooked.

 

“Hey! Hey, you three aren’t supposed to be here,” a man said, already heading in their direction, and Percival didn’t hesitate to pull his gun. Tina followed suit, and the nearest people froze in terror.

 

“Quiet. Listen, we’re not here to hurt anyone. Pause the broadcast, and all of you move into that break room over there,” Percival said firmly, getting out his false CIA identification and holding it up. “CIA is hand delivering you the story of the year. No one is getting hurt, understand?”

 

And luckily for them, it was rather easy to convince the newscasters and the tech people to take the broadcast to commercials and herd everyone into the break room. Civilians like this tended to follow orders rather well when faced with a gun and an authoritative voice. Percival felt bad; they were terrified, and why wouldn’t they be? But this was the only way they were going to be able to get this done.

 

“Alright. I’m going to bar this door when I leave. You can try to get out if you want, but if you don’t want to run into a lot of trouble, I would wait at least five minutes before you do it,” he said, his voice quiet but firm as Tina got the civilians to put all their phones in a bag and sit down against the walls of the room.

 

He cast a glance at Newt, but as expected, the redhead didn’t look happy about having to do things this way. He surely understood, though; they would have to worry about forgiveness later.

 

They stepped out of the room, and then closed and barred the door with a chair- after all, they weren’t really worried about keeping the people in indefinitely, just about keeping control of the situation long enough to do what they needed to do- and Tina dropped the bag of cell phones in the nearest trash can so they would have to take at least a minute of searching to find them once they got out.

 

“Alright. The control room is right over here,” Percival said, breaking into a jog across the empty studio to the correct room.

 

Inside the room was a wall of monitors and computers, and on every screen the commercials were playing out. Percival moved with Newt and Tina to the control panel, got out the flash drive, and immediately plugged it into a laptop that was wired into the elaborate system.

 

The progress bar popped up on the screen, and that was when things went wrong.

 

“Well, I have to say I didn’t think you would go this far,” a familiar voice said, and the three of them turned at once away from the control panel to find Grindelwald and two other agents at the entrance of the room, guns at the ready.

 

“Whatever you have running there, you have ten seconds to put a stop to it before we start shooting and do it for you,” Grindelwald added, his voice icy, frigid and sharp.

 

“It’s over, Grindelwald. This is done with,” Percival said, shaking his head. “You need to turn yourself in.”

 

Grindelwald laughed. “Turn myself in? On your word?” he said incredulously. “You have five seconds.”

 

Percival felt like time was standing still, in that moment. Three guns on them, and Newt was beside him, but…for once, he didn’t look scared staring down the muzzle of a gun. He looked determined, and ready.

 

Percival decided not to let Grindelwald count down to their own personal firing squad. He pulled his gun and fired, and one of the agents stumbled back as the bullet tore through his chest.

 

The other two opened fire, and Percival yanked Newt out of the way just as Tina started returning fire. Newt stumbled into the far wall, and Percival stepped forward and grabbed onto the other agent’s arm to try and wrench the gun away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tina kick Grindelwald back, and then he grabbed onto her and brought his gun down on the side of her head, sending her sprawling to the ground, stunned but conscious.

 

The agent took advantage of Percival’s momentary distraction and brought his knee up hard into Percival’s stomach, and Percival stumbled back with a shocked gasp, only to have the agent step behind him and grab both of his arms at the elbow, yanking them back painfully hard.

 

The progress bar was nearly full.

 

Grindelwald stepped up to him, and raised his gun.

 

“You’ve been enough of a nuisance, Mr. Graves,” he said, and his finger tightened on the trigger-

 

-and then Newt grabbed the gun and wrenched it to the side.

 

Newt was no match for Grindelwald. The gun went off in the brief struggle, and then Grindelwald pulled free of Newt’s grip and backhanded him with the grip of the gun, sending him stumbling back into the wall. Percival didn’t hesitate- he jerked his head back, slamming the back of his head into the agent’s forehead, and he yanked free and spun around as the agent dropped, unconscious.

 

The progress bar hit one hundred percent, and he grabbed the mouse and clicked. He turned in time to see Tina kick Grindelwald in the groin, then punch him in the face and pull his gun from his hand. She followed it up by bringing the gun down on Grindelwald’s temple, and he dropped like a sack of bricks.

 

At the same time, every television screen in the room was showing the current broadcast- a slideshow of the documents and pictures Percival had given Credence, with the audio of Picquery’s confession playing. Percival felt a rush go through him- they’d won. They’d actually done it.

 

“Newt, it worked! We-“ he started, turning to where Newt sat against the wall, but he stopped midsentence and felt numbness race through him like a crash of icy water.

 

A red bloom was rapidly spreading across the front of Newt’s white shirt, and his hands were slick and bright red with blood.

 

“Newt,” he choked out, and he rushed to Newt’s side and dropped down to his knees. “No, no, no, Newt, look at me. Look at me.”

 

Newt managed to lift his head, but those green eyes looked glassy, unfocused, almost stunned, as if he couldn’t quite grasp what had happened. Percival gathered Newt in his arms, holding him close, and then he pressed one hand down on the wound to keep pressure on it.

 

Blood welled up through his fingers, so much of it that the metallic, nauseating smell of blood was thick in the air already. “Tina, call an ambulance!” he snapped, and Percival shifted Newt in closer, his free arm holding him tightly around the shoulders.

 

The fact that he hadn’t reacted with pain to Percival pressing down on the wound was more than concerning.

 

“I’m on it,” Tina said, her voice shaky and her fingers already dialing on her phone.

 

“Newt, focus on me. Can you do that?” Percival asked, and Newt blinked slowly, and then nodded. Barely.

 

“Good. Okay. Listen, you need to stay awake, alright? Talk to me. About anything,” Percival said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, but he couldn’t manage it. There was _so much_ blood. The abdomen had so many vital organs the bullet could have hit, there was an artery there; all his professionalism was going out the window as he realized just how bad this was.

 

Evidently, he wasn’t acting well enough for Newt.

 

“S’alright,” Newt managed, the words nearly choked out past harsh, shallow breaths. “P-Percival, it’s okay, it…it doesn’t hurt that bad-“

 

Percival laughed, almost desperately. “You’re not supposed to be comforting me,” he pointed out, and he blinked a few times, fighting back the burn of tears that threatened to well in his eyes.

 

“I t-tend to…do things all wrong,” Newt admitted, though his eyes were quickly losing focus. He was shaking in Percival’s arms. “M’cold,” he muttered, and Percival bit back a curse.

 

Shock. He was going into shock.

 

“It’s okay. I’m here,” he said, shifting his free hand up to support Newt’s head, his fingers tangling in that red hair. “I’m here, I’m not leaving. We’re going back to Alaska, remember? I promised.”

 

Newt let out a shaky breath. He was shivering almost violently now. “The N-Northern Lights,” he said weakly, and Percival let out a sound that was almost a sob.

 

“That’s right. The Northern Lights, those damn bears, all of it.”

 

He felt a tear trace its way down his cheek, and Newt reached up with one trembling hand to wipe it away- only to leave a streak of blood in its place. This seemed to surprise him- his breath hitched, as if he’d forgotten he was bleeding, forgotten he was _dying_ -

 

“Tina, where’s that ambulance?” he asked, glancing up at her, and she still had the phone pressed to her ear, and she was pacing back and forth.

 

“Two minutes away, tops,” she said. “Keep pressure on it and keep him awake.”

 

Percival didn’t need the reminder. He pressed down harder on the wound, though his hand was so blood-soaked that it was barely distinguishable from the bright red fabric around it, fabric that had been pristine white only minutes ago. Newt’s eyes went wider and his body stiffened for a moment before the pain seemed to ebb away again into shock.

 

“Newt, stay with me,” he begged as Newt’s eyes fluttered shut for only a moment. He opened them again at Percival’s plea, though, and his bloodied fingers clenched weakly in the fabric of Percival’s shirt.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hardly a whisper now, and Percival kissed him on the forehead.

 

“Don’t you apologize. Don’t you dare apologize,” he said firmly. “Just a little bit longer.”

 

The recording from Picquery was on its third loop. Tina was still pacing, casting worried glances in their direction and the direction of the door, and he could hear sirens outside.

 

But Newt was fading.

 

“Percival,” he said, the name shaky on his lips, his grip loosening on Percival’s shirt, and Percival kissed him on the forehead again, trying to keep him here, keep him with them.

 

“I’m here. I’m right here, Newt,” he whispered, and he was shaking nearly as bad as Newt was, but it was from fear, and from anguish. “I can’t keep those promises if you leave me now. Just stay with me, I _love_ you.”

 

Newt made a soft noise, and then he took in a shallow but sharp breath and exhaled slowly- and then his hand fell from Percival’s shirt and his eyes fluttered shut.

 

“Newt,” Percival nearly sobbed. “No, no, Newt, don’t you do this to me!”

 

And then there was a flurry of activity around him, and paramedics were pulling Newt from his arms, and Percival fell into helplessness.

 


	19. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d gotten too complacent, allowing Newt to come along on all of this. He’d been so secure in the fact that Newt had done so well with their other missions that he hadn’t protected him well enough on this one.
> 
> He would never be able to get all of the blood off his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to all my readers, especially to those who take the time to review. You make a writer so happy. <3
> 
> The next chapter- last chapter, holy crap- will likely go up Sunday night!

Percival didn’t get to go with Newt to the hospital. His hands were still covered in sticky blood when the FBI agents came in and forced him and Tina into cuffs.

 

They dragged him from the room while the paramedics were still trying to stabilize Newt enough to move him, and Percival felt numb. He didn’t fight their grip, knew there would be no point in it, and likely only end in more delays in him getting back to Newt.

 

He ended up in an interrogation room, where an agent interrogated him for hours without even letting him wash his hands. He was _covered_ in blood, and all he could think about was that he didn’t even know if Newt was dead or alive. He answered every single question they asked him- sometimes two or three times over- and he was beginning to lose hope of ever getting out of there when the door opened and Queenie stepped inside with another agent he didn’t recognize.

 

“We’ve been given orders to release him,” the agent said, and the one questioning him looked irritated.

 

“By who?”

 

“The, uh…Commander in Chief, sir. Directly.”

 

Percival blinked, not quite sure he’d heard that right- the _President_ had ordered him released?

 

“Come on, Percival. We need to go,” Queenie said, and Percival stood- and he didn’t miss the way her eyes widened at seeing him so covered in blood. It had dried on his hands and face, but it was still sticky-damp on his shirt and pants. He didn’t pause to think, didn’t care how annoyed the agent was; he just stepped out the door and immediately reeled on Queenie.

 

“How is he?” he asked, the words coming out raw, unlike the dry monotone he’d been giving the agent in the interrogation.

 

“He’s been in surgery for hours. They can’t tell us anything until he’s out.”

 

“Take me to the hospital.”

 

Queenie bit her lip. “The President wants to see you-“

 

“With all due respect, the President can go fuck himself right now. Take me to the hospital. _Please_.”

 

She didn’t even try to argue. She nodded and led the way out to her car, and Percival got in and nearly broke down right there in the passenger seat.

 

Hours of surgery couldn’t be a good sign. It meant major damage. He almost put his face in his hands, but froze at the brownish red stain beginning to flake off his skin.

 

“Here,” Queenie said softly, and she pulled a pack of tissues and a bottle of hand sanitizer out of her purse. “It won’t help much, but you can get cleaned up at the hospital. I’ll get you a change of clothes, too.”

 

Percival nodded and took them from her, and he cleaned up his hands as best he could, trying not to think the worst. Newt could pull through this. He had to.

 

He didn’t know what he would do if Newt died today. Especially since he might be dying because of what he’d done to save Percival’s life. Percival hadn’t even realized that Newt had been hit when the gun went off, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that ten second delay in getting pressure on the wound would be the difference between Newt living and dying.

 

He’d gotten too complacent, allowing Newt to come along on all of this. He’d been so secure in the fact that Newt had done so well with their other missions that he hadn’t protected him well enough on this one.

 

He would never be able to get all of the blood off his hands.

 

“Tina told me what happened,” Queenie said softly as she drove. “He’ll pull through, Percival. He’s such a strong person; you both are.”

 

“Is Tina at the hospital?” Credence asked, and Queenie nodded.

 

“Credence picked her up. They’re probably there already.”

 

“So…the President?” he asked, and Queenie gave him a smirk.

 

“You three have put Washington in a meltdown. The CIA is in shambles and the FBI is shuffling people to cover day to day operations until an investigative team can be put together and figure out how deep this goes,” she explained. “Grindelwald and Picquery have both been arrested, and they’re sending a team of doctors and investigators up to that village, along with a huge supply of clean water.”

 

Percival felt a wave of relief go through him at that; at least they had succeeded in saving those people. And if all went well, Grindelwald and Picquery would never see the outside of a prison, along with whoever was in on it along with them.

 

“I managed to get in touch with Newt’s brother,” Queenie added after a few minutes of silence. “Theseus and his parents are getting the first flight they can to the states. Should be here by tomorrow evening.”

 

Percival nodded; he could only hope that they would arrive to good news. That, and he hoped that he could refrain from punching Newt’s parents in the face for how they treated him growing up.

 

“Oh, and…when we get to the hospital, just…push your way through and go straight inside, okay?” Queenie added nervously, and Percival gave her a confused look.

 

“Why…?” he started, but then they turned the corner and he saw the news trucks outside the hospital.

 

Oh. Yeah. Washington in an uproar and all that.

 

Percival had the car door open before Queenie even managed to get the car to a complete stop. Immediately there were cameras going off, microphones in his face, and questions being shouted at him from every direction, but he went right for the emergency room doors and pushed inside, safe where the cameras and reporters weren’t allowed. He spotted Tina and Credence immediately, evidently waiting on him- and both of them went a bit wide-eyed when they saw him.

 

Right. The blood. The press would probably have a field day with that.

 

“Jesus,” Credence breathed out, his voice missing the usual snark and edge. “Are you alright? Is that…?”

 

Percival shook his head. “None of it’s mine,” he muttered, leaving them with the obvious alternative. “Have you heard anything yet?”

 

“He’s still in surgery,” Tina said, looking nervously toward the double doors leading farther into the hospital.

 

Credence swallowed hard and nodded. “Been almost five hours now.”

 

Queenie came up behind them and smiled gently at Percival, holding out a clean set of scrubs to him, probably donated by hospital staff who didn’t want him walking around looking like he’d murdered someone. “Here. There’s a bathroom down the hall, go clean up and change,” she said, and he nodded; Tina and Credence probably didn’t want to have him around looking like this anyway.

 

He took the clothes and went to the bathroom, and when he looked in the mirror, it all came crashing down.

 

There was a smear of blood across his cheek, long since dried, from where Newt had tried to comfort him. His white shirt was mostly brownish red on the front, and his hands were only somewhat clean from his attempts in the car.

 

He looked back down at the sink and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. All of a sudden, he couldn’t strip down fast enough; he wanted every bit of the blood off him, every reminder of his failure to protect Newt.

 

He took off the destroyed clothes and stuffed them into the trashcan, and then he scrubbed his hands and his face until they were red not from bloodstains, but from how hard he scrubbed them.

 

He still felt like it wasn’t enough. Like it would never be enough. But he needed to get back out there, in case there was news about Newt.

 

The hospital staff let them wait in a waiting room in the surgical wing, where there was a coffee machine and comfortable chairs, but that didn’t make the wait any easier. Credence, Tina, and Percival all three managed to empty the coffee pot twice over in short order, and soon Credence was curled up in one of the chairs, Tina and Queenie were sitting side by side on one of the sofas, and Percival paced. He couldn’t sit still, not when his mind wouldn’t stop racing with the what-ifs and the dread about what the doctor would say when he walked through that door.

 

It was over an hour later when a doctor finally showed up in the waiting room, and Percival felt his heart hammering against his ribs as the man approached them. “You’re here for Mr. Scamander?” he asked, and Percival nodded.

 

“How is he?” he asked, and his own voice surprised him- he sounded wrecked, barely sane.

 

“He did as well as can be expected. The bullet impacted his liver, which is why there was such massive blood loss,” the doctor explained with a slightly accented voice. “We did a transfusion and repaired much of the damage, and we’re going to see how he does over the next 24 hours.”

 

Percival took a deep breath and nodded; he could read between the lines. It was still touch and go.

 

It was better than what he feared, but worse than what he’d hoped.

 

“Can I see him?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

 

“When we’ve moved him out of recovery and into the ICU, one of the nurses will take you to see him,” the surgeon said, and quick as that, he gave them a sympathetic nod and was gone. Percival stepped back until he back of his knees hit the chair behind him, and he sat down heavily and buried his face in his hands.

 

All at once, he felt one hand on his shoulder, and another hand rubbing his back comfortingly, and when he raised his head Credence was on one side of him and Tina was on the other.

 

“He’ll be alright,” Tina said. “He’ll pull through.”

 

Percival just nodded; hope was all he had left to cling to.

 

* ~~~~~~ *

 

When he was finally allowed in the room with Newt, he stopped in the doorway and his breath caught in his throat.

 

Newt looked so different from the lively, loving person that Percival knew. He was so pale, even his freckles seemed washed out on his skin, and there were so many tubes and wires hooked up to him that he may as well have been a marionette on life giving strings. The only sounds in the room were the steady _hiss-click_ of the machines and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.

 

Percival slowly made his way to the bedside and reached out to brush Newt’s hair back from his forehead, then leaned over and kissed him there, the touch light, as if worried of shattering him with the slightest touch.

 

“I’m sorry, Newt,” he whispered, stroking Newt’s hair lightly, his eyes drawn to the heavy bandaging swathed across the redhead’s slender midsection. “Just make it through this, and I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll protect you.”

 

He would protect him like he couldn’t before.

 

He pulled up a chair to the bedside and sat down, moving his hand to take hold of Newt’s. His skin was warm, but normally when Percival would hold his hand, Newt would give a reassuring squeeze in return.

 

This time, there was no response. He hadn’t really expected one, but it still hit him like a blow to the chest. He squeezed Newt’s hand all the same, hoping that it would get through to him on some level, that he would know Percival was here, waiting for him to wake up.

 

The doctor warned him that Newt was heavily sedated and needed to stay that way for at least a couple of days after such a traumatic injury. He told him Newt wouldn’t wake up for quite a while, if it was to be. But Percival refused to leave Newt’s side, especially in the first two days, until the worst of the danger had passed.

 

Newt’s family came to the hospital, and though his parents just visited, Theseus stayed- he was taller than Newt, his hair a darker red and his skin less freckled, but it was obvious he cared for his brother. He wasn’t satisfied until Percival had told him the whole story, minus whatever spins the media were trying to put on it. Theseus ended up being there more often than not, offering Percival a cup of coffee or just companionable silence in the tension of the room.

 

Percival turned down another meeting with the President; he passed word along to the messenger that he would be perfectly willing to meet with the man when Newt was awake and stable, and not a minute before. Theseus, watching from a chair by the window, looked more than a bit impressed.

 

Then it was back to waiting. It was nearly unbearable, every minute feeling more like an hour. But at the end of the worst of the waiting, Newt was still alive, still breathing, still hanging on.

 

By then he’d improved enough to be moved out of the ICU, and Queenie and the nurses made sure he got moved into a double room so Percival could use the other bed in the room to sleep, seeing as how he refused to leave. He left once, just long enough to go to Tina’s apartment and use her shower, and then he was right back at the hospital, ignoring the press that still hovered at the hospital doors like vultures.

 

Sometime in those two days, they’d run tests on the water in that village, and found heavy contamination by an unknown chemical composition; there were now very few skeptics of their story, and their names were in the clear. A lawyer visited long enough to warn Percival that he, Tina, and Newt were witnesses in for one hell of a trial once all the paperwork was done and the charges were filed, but all Percival could think about was the fact that the doctors said they were reducing the sedative dosage Newt was on. He could wake up anytime.

 

The lawyer left, and Percival stayed by Newt’s side, the courts and the trial the furthest thing from his mind.

 

The first time Newt woke up, he was barely aware of anything. He managed to squeeze Percival’s hand, and follow the few instructions the nurse gave him to make sure he could still move his feet and hands, and then he was drifting off again. It was enough, though, for Percival to feel an indescribable amount of relief.

 

Newt was going to be okay. It would be a long road, he knew that much- this wasn’t the kind of injury you just walked away from after a few weeks of bed rest, after all- but he was going to make it.

 

And the second time he woke up, he was actually coherent. Percival had been flipping through channels trying to find something that wasn’t about the CIA scandal when he felt Newt’s hand squeeze his, and he practically dropped the remote in surprise when he turned to find those green eyes open and watching him, looking somewhat clear for the first time since before that gunshot went off.

 

“Newt,” he breathed out, and he tossed the remote onto the bedside table and leaned over to kiss his lover on the forehead. “You had me worried.”

 

“Sorry,” Newt managed, the word coming out soft and slurred, but Percival just smiled and shook his head.

 

“Don’t apologize,” he said, stroking his fingers through Newt’s hair lightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you remember what happened?”

 

Newt blinked slowly, paused as if trying to remember, and then nodded once. “Bloody bastard s-shot me,” he managed, and Percival laughed, because he hadn’t expected Newt to put it quite like that- but he wasn’t wrong, either.

 

“Yeah, but he’s sitting in prison right now, along with all the people who worked with him on this,” Percival pointed out with a smile. “And they sent help to that village. They’re all recovering up there, no one died.”

 

Newt let out a shaky breath of relief that turned into a wince. “Good,” he said, and Percival hit the button to call the nurse; Newt would probably need some more pain medication now that he was awake.

 

And that was about the time Theseus came back in the room, two coffees in hand, and his eyes widened at seeing his brother awake. “Newt,” he said with a grin, and he set the drinks down and went to the other side of the bed, taking hold of Newt’s other hand. “If you wanted me to come visit, you could have just called, you drama queen,” he added, and Newt managed a weak smile- it was probably best that he couldn’t laugh just yet.

 

“Well…I don’t do anything b-by halves,” Newt said, and he seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open now. Theseus chuckled and kissed Newt on the cheek.

 

“That you don’t. Get some sleep, Newton. We’ll be here when you wake again,” he said, and Newt couldn’t even manage a nod before his eyes fell shut. Theseus took in a deep breath, and then he looked up at Percival.

 

“As his big brother, I’m obliged to give you the shovel talk, but I think we can go with the abridged version,” he pointed out. “I mean, I think I’m being pretty generous, given the circumstances. Not really how I would have liked to meet his boyfriend, but he’s always been…odd.”

 

Percival smirked. “Don’t I know it,” he said, looking back down at the sleeping redhead. “I know I’ve said it already, but…I’m sorry about this. I really am.”

 

Theseus just waved a hand dismissively. “Tina told me it wasn’t your fault. And I saw the security footage from the television station. He saved your life, and…if you mean that much to him, you’re already part of the family. No escape now. You’re pretty much an honorary Scamander, no matter what my parents say about those ‘absolutely mental Yanks’.”

 

“I’m not exactly heartbroken that they don’t like me. The feeling is mutual.”

 

“You’re not the only one in that club, believe me,” Theseus said with a chuckle, and then he paused for a few long moments before he spoke again. “Just…promise me you’ll take care of him. I can’t stick around forever, much as I’d like to, and I sure as hell know he won’t follow doctor’s orders.”

 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Percival said. “You have my word.”

 

He didn’t hesitate to make that promise. He owed it to Newt to make sure he recovered fully, to make sure he made it through the trial to come with his sanity intact; he owed Newt everything. He owed him his life twice over now.

 

He would make sure that Newt knew just how much he meant to him, whatever it took.


	20. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Newt needed this. He’d been wilting in the city, finding it harder and harder to focus on his recovery; Percival knew that this was the best thing they could do for him, to get him out and into more familiar terrain, doing what he loved to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done! :D
> 
> Thank you to the OP on the kink meme who put this plot bunny in my head. Thank you to all reviewers, kudos-ers, and all the silent readers too; I really hope everyone enjoyed the ride and that everyone feels the ending is fitting!
> 
> To add a nice bow to the finish, here's a link to some beautiful artwork by yinyangswings that they made for this story (thank you, yinyang, it absolutely makes my day when my work inspires more creativity!): http://archiveofourown.org/works/9596957/chapters/21687776

June in Alaska could have been a nightmare. There was still a chance of snowstorms, of frigid cold, even in what should have been the beginning of a warm summer. But Percival and Newt were lucky; when they arrived at the cabin, the weather was warm enough that a light jacket was all they needed to fight against the slight chill of the wind.

 

They parked the Jeep and Percival let the dogs out of the back- he’d insisted that they bring a vehicle to the cabin this time, just in case of emergency, especially since Newt was still technically recovering and Percival had been reluctant to be this far from society in the first place with Newt in that condition. The Jeep and the satellite phone were the compromise that meant Percival finally gave in to Newt’s pleading.

 

Newt still had his good days and his bad days, even eight months after the shot was fired. While the liver was an organ that could recover better than others might, it still took a lot of time- and a lot of pain- for that to happen. On most days, Newt could function normally, if a little slower than before; on other days, even standing up too quickly made him wince with pain. He tended to tire quicker than he used to, but Percival was always close at hand to hand.

 

But Newt was alive. He was getting better. And with each smile, each improvement, Percival felt that deep-seated guilt ease just a little more.

 

The dogs began sniffing around the outside of the cabin, settling back in their usual places, and Newt got out of the Jeep and hesitated when he saw the cabin. Percival paused for a moment himself, watching as Newt seemed at war with himself for a few moments before he went to the door.

 

Percival knew that it would be exactly how Newt remembered it- minus the bodies and blood. He’d asked Queenie to ensure that a team was sent up to deep clean the cabin and leave no sign of what had happened. The only change he’d made was he asked to have an extra desk added to the cabin, a necessary evil for the other compromise in coming out here.

 

Percival and Newt were still witnesses in Grindelwald’s and Picquery’s trials. They’d always testified over webcam because there were threats on their lives from Grindelwald’s remaining supporters, so the change of location didn’t change anything; they would need to set up a computer and testify as needed through the trial.

 

But Newt needed this. He’d been wilting in the city, finding it harder and harder to focus on his recovery; Percival knew that this was the best thing they could do for him, to get him out and into more familiar terrain, doing what he loved to do.

 

Percival followed Newt as he went up the steps into the cabin, but Newt stopped with his hand on the doorknob, and he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Percival knew what he was thinking; the last time he’d been in there, someone had been holding a gun to his head. The place had been a mess of blood and death, not the home he knew.

 

Percival stepped forward and set one hand on the small of Newt’s back, and then kissed him on the temple. “It’s alright,” he said softly, and that seemed to be enough. Newt nodded once, then turned the doorknob and went inside.

 

Just as Percival expected, Queenie had gone above and beyond. The cabin was not only back to how it had been before, but the furniture had been slightly rearranged to make room for a second desk- and a bigger bed. It looked like she’d even had the windows better insulated for the inevitable cold.

 

Newt looked around with surprise, and then raised an eyebrow at Percival. “Your doing?” he asked, and Percival shook his head.

 

“I just put a bug in Queenie’s ear about it. Everything else is on her,” he admitted, but Newt pulled him into a kiss, all the same.

 

And so they got settled in. Percival did most of the heavier work- going down to the stream to set up the first fishing lines of the year, setting up a network of security cameras around the cabin, getting the water traps set up, and storing their backup supplies. Newt took care of getting their belongings put away in the cabin, and getting the dogs settled in and fed, as well as the computer set up.

 

And that night, despite being exhausted from the travel to get there, Percival took the time to worship every inch of his lover, including the new scar that he was so self-conscious about.

 

They settled into a routine. Percival helped Newt with his research in the morning, carrying the day packs and making sure he didn’t try to follow his research subjects too far from the cabin and the river valley; in the afternoon they would rest and prepare the fish and plants they’d gathered, and in the evening usually one or the other of them would have to testify over the satellite connection.

 

The highlight of the first week was Newt spotting the female that Pakak had evidently been fawning over all last season- only to find that she wasn’t alone. She had two cubs with her this year, probably Pakak’s cubs, and seeing the look on Newt’s face when he realized that made the trip out here worthwhile already.

 

Pakak was here, of course- he hadn’t been to the cabin yet, probably on account of the vehicle and unusual activity, but Newt had no doubt the bear’s curiosity would win out later in the season, when he wasn’t so distracted by chasing after the females. He was a monster of a bear this year, even when skinny from hibernation; it was clear that the ‘alpha male’ of the river valley probably had a new challenger in town, and Newt was like a proud mother, watching Pakak throw his weight around and make challenges left and right.

 

They weren’t expecting the rumble of an engine a little over a week later, when they were outside gutting fish for dinner. At first Newt looked afraid and Percival stiffened- but then they saw a familiar vehicle roll into view. That was definitely the truck Jacob always used to drive here from the nearest village.

 

It was even more of a surprise when they realized that Jacob wasn’t alone.

 

“Tina, Queenie!” Newt said with a bright smile as he stood up, and Percival followed his lead as Jacob and the two girls got out of the truck. Tina and Queenie immediately went to Newt to offer hugs and greetings, and Percival second; he wasn’t surprised or hurt, considering how fond they’d gotten of Newt over the past half a year.

 

He really couldn’t blame them.

 

“It’s so weird to see you out here,” Tina said to Percival with a laugh, and Percival just shrugged.

 

“I had a crash course in wilderness living, you might say,” he pointed out, and Jacob clapped Newt on the shoulder.

 

“Newt. My pal. My friend,” he said, and then he jerked his head toward Queenie. “You didn’t tell me you’d met an _angel_ , amigo.”

 

Tina rolled her eyes, but Queenie grinned, obviously charmed by the cheesy attempt at flirting.

 

“Jacob took us over the whole bay and the valley on the way in. It’s beautiful out here,” she said, that bright smile as warm as the sunlight through the trees. “I can see why you like it out here, Newt.”

 

“Credence didn’t join you?” Percival asked with a smirk, and Tina snorted.

 

“He said he prefers somewhere that he doesn’t have to have a satellite transponder to check his email,” she said. “Also, he’s rather busy getting the cyberterrorism department back into top shape, since it had to be half gutted.”

 

The girls didn’t stay very long- after all, the cabin was tiny, and they had no desire to camp out in bear country. They stayed to have a sort of impromptu picnic on the porch of the cabin, with some grilled fish and berries provided by Newt and Percival, and then it was time to say goodbye again.

 

“Jacob says he’s going to find us a good spot to watch the Northern Lights tonight before we fly out in the morning. He says they’ll be really bright tonight,” Queenie said, giving Jacob a smile, which resulted in him giving her a rather dopey, adoring look.

 

Newt and Percival shared a glance, and Percival smirked; it seemed like their plans for tonight had changed without either one of them having to say a word.

 

Sure enough, after their guests had left and night began to fall, with no testimony to be given tonight, Percival packed snacks and blankets and a bottle of wine and led Newt back up to that cliff where they’d sat nearly a year ago to watch the Northern Lights. It almost felt like no time had passed; from up here, the river and valley looked much the same, the eagles filled the sky with their calls, and the wind carried the smell of the ocean from the bay to the open air of the cliff they sat on.

 

Percival poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Newt, and then he tilted his head back to watch as the first streaks of green and blue began to dance across the sky. He remembered the legends Newt had told him about the Northern Lights, and he remembered the science too, but neither mattered much to him at the moment.

 

He had his own memories to go along with this. He didn’t need explanations, or the stories that other people had created.

 

“So, you’ve kept all your promises now,” Newt said as he sipped at his wine, and Percival’s breath caught as he remembered those promises that he’d made the night they took down Grindelwald.

 

And he remembered telling Newt in desperation that he couldn’t keep those promises if Newt left him, if he gave up, and he hadn’t. Not then, and not since then.

 

“I suppose that means I’ll have to make new ones,” he said, and Newt turned his gaze away from the sky to give Percival a curious look.

 

“Just what did you have in mind?”

 

“Maybe a promise to stay with you, no matter what?” Percival said, and Newt smiled a little sadly.

 

“Might be a bit difficult, once you start working again.”

 

Percival tilted his head, his smile sly, as if pretending to consider the conundrum. “I don’t know, I was thinking about a career change,” he said, and that got Newt’s full attention, both his eyebrows rising in surprise.

 

“Wait…are you serious?” he asked with a laugh. “A career change to what?”

 

“Park ranger.”

 

Newt stared for a moment, as if waiting for the punch line. “You’d…have to get a degree in some kind of environmental science.”

 

“Easy. Have two degrees already, give me a couple years and I’ll have a third.”

 

“You wouldn’t be able to live in the city anymore. Or steal cars, for that matter.”

 

“Regrettable, but I can manage.”

 

“You’d have to arrest me for hugging bears.”

 

Percival smirked. “Well…it _was_ only one bear, Mr. Scamander,” he said. Newt looked flabbergasted, caught off guard, and Percival’s smile widened.

 

“Percival, this is…a big change. You shouldn’t just…drop everything like that, just for me,” Newt stuttered, and Percival reached over with his free hand and took hold of Newt’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

 

“I know. Big decision. That’s why I’ve been thinking about it for a few months now,” he said, and then he shrugged. “And that’s why I’m already signed up for online classes in environmental science and parks management. I start in two weeks.”

 

Newt’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Percival…really?” he asked, as if Percival might say he was just kidding about the whole thing, but Percival just tugged him into a quick kiss.

 

“Really. Absolutely.”

 

And quite suddenly, both wine glasses ended up in the grass as Percival suddenly had a lap full of Newt, with the redhead kissing him almost desperately, and Percival could _feel_ him smiling into the kiss. He tangled his now free hand in Newt’s hair, returning the kiss as best he could while grinning like an idiot.

 

Under a curtain of bright, shimmering lights he felt the pieces of his life finally fitting into place, now that he had the one piece he hadn’t even known he’d been missing all along.


End file.
